Living Without Wings
by EternallyDrowning
Summary: I was given three rules in the Uchiha manor. 1 Always act propper and respectful, 2 Don't associate with the lower class, and 3 Never fall for the enemy. But does it count if you don't know that you've fallen for him?
1. The Arrival

**Alrighty people, I know I shouldn't be making a new story now since I finally got off of my lazy procrastinating ass and started updating my other stories…but I finally figured out how I wanted to start this story, so I thought "What the hell…" and decided to type it up while it was fresh in my mind. In other words…I am trying to save myself from forgetting, which is a really good thing for me, and who knows. If you like it…you get to read it sooner.**

**Just remember, if you like it comment, but this story might be changed and adjusted more than the others, and I might/will switch between the I format and the she format, and possibly other character's POV…just a warning.**

**Oh, and if you review…don't give me crap about CD players being old school or something, cuz I personally hate those small little carpal tunnel inducer things you call MP3 players and Ipods. (I tried them once and I hated scrolling through all the songs and pressing the TINY buttons)**

**Sorry if I sound a little bitchy…I've been a little "hormonal" lately and have had to experience tons of mood swings. Ah the joys of being a teenager…**

**Disclaimer:** (Yes, I actually remembered to do this…finally)** I do not own Naruto, nor do I own the song Toxicity or Spiders, that belongs to the geniusness of SOAD.**

_Conversion, software version 7.0 Looking at life through the eyes of a tired hub_

"Honey?" a delicate feminine voice calls out to my unresponsive form.

My finger moves slightly in order to adjust the volume on my CD player so I can drown out her voice with my already blaring music.

_Eating seeds as a past time activity, the toxicity of our city, of our city_

"Darling, we're almost there…"

She touches me now, a hesitant fluttering of her fingertips against the fabric on my baggy black sweatpants.

I flinch at the touch, snapping my eyes open to send her a hateful glare.

She backs down and pulls back her hand.

_Now somewhere between the sacred silence, sacred silence and sleep_

I hiss in aggravation and slump down onto my side so my shoulder is now pressed against the cool metal of the door and on the ledge right below the window. My somewhat visible pale legs are slightly bent on the leather seat with my bare foot nonchalantly hanging off of the edge of it, and my eyes…well, my eyes are where they always are.

Out.

As far out and away as I can get them from the current claustrophobia of my life, in other words, they're staring out the window.

Lush trees, wet from continuous rain, whip past my window in a blur of green, leaving only smudges of shadows along the roads as they pass. The sky is cloudy and gray, sending rumbles of thunder loud enough for me to feel as vibrations in my gut. I would say that there is sunlight breaking through the clouds here and there, but I cannot tell through the tainted glass of the limo's window.

I sigh again and adjusting my headphones.

_More wood for their fires, loud neighbors; flashlight reveries caught in the headlights of a truck_

My finger traces the cold buttons of the music player until they reach the Skip button and press down lightly causing the next song to come blaring in my ears.

_The piercing radiant moon, the storming or poor June, all the life running through her hair._

Now in my comfort zone, I slowly bring the volume of the music down.

Listening to Spiders on low volume has always helped me relax.

I am not nervous.

I'm just fidgety.

We've been in this limo nonstop for almost four hours. Now that I was told it's almost over the fidgetiness has only gotten worse.

_Dreams are made winding through my head_

A raindrop splats against my window and the wind drags the water in smears against the glass. I follow it with my eyes, absorbing the sight of it, only to then watch it disappear just as suddenly as it had appeared.

Another drop explodes on the surface, trailing its fluids in a long tail as it descends.

Fingers reach up, and soon I find myself with my pointer finger pressed against the cool glass, following the path the small water spot has taken.

As my hand reaches the ending of the window's glass, so does the raindrop, and it is forcible ripped from the only thing holding it down to earth by the merciless wind.

Rain…is rather…depressing.

The limo turns from the gravel road onto a smoothly paved one, causing me to lean slightly in my seat to avoid falling over, the woman does the same.

I look out the window and my heart slightly sinks.

The trees are not as beautiful now.

They're perfect and symmetrical; evenly spaced throughout the sides of the road.

They feel…fake.

My eyes drift back to the woman sitting across from me. She's been staring at me this whole time.

"Are you up then?" she asks with a tentative smile.

I keep my unchanging gaze on her a while longer before bringing my knees up to my chin, letting my eyes wander to my toes.

They're pink and pale and the same time, and my nails are painted with a shade of dark maroon. I move them a bit until they manage to catch what little light is coming in through the windows. They're not very amusing, but out of all the options in this car at the moment, they are most likely the most interesting thing here.

I wonder what it's like to be skin.

…never seeing or hearing…

… just feeling.

It must be lucky to not have to worry about what the world looks like. All that really matters is whether something is hot or sharp. Even then, when hurt and bleeding, the pain soon passes and is replaced by a scab, heals, and is forgotten.

Nothing really matters, nothing has great importance.

All they have to do is exist.

Perhaps I as well…wish to be like…

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the separation glass being rolled down as the chauffeur presses the button.

He looks back at us with eyes covered by dark sunglasses.

He doesn't smile.

The woman that calls herself my mother turns around and smiles brightly at him.

He remains grim.

"We've arrived." is all he says before returning the glass to where it was originally.

I feel the limo jerk forward a bit as it stops, and the next thing I hear is a car door being shut.

My finger wavers, finally deciding to press the Stop button twice, completely shutting down the music emitting softly from the device.

Silence.

It's very uncomfortable now, and I find myself biting my lip in response.

Fabric shuffles in front of me, breaking the awkward silence of the car.

The woman turns toward me with a fake essence of excitement.

"Such awful weather we're having today. Try not to get too wet Dear, I don't want you getting sick. Oh, Honey, why don't you take off that hat and show off your hair! You have such lovely hair…"

I pull my black beanie tighter over my head. All of that lovely hair she was talking about has been tucked securely inside, not a strand is hanging out.

Just the way I like it.

Our door opens up now letting in a cold, wet, blast of air, causing me to slightly wince, revealing the chauffeur standing patiently in the soaking rain, waiting for us to get out.

He's already saturated to the bone from the suddenly pouring rain.

At first the woman doesn't know what to do. She stares out into the pouring field past the window, then at the chauffer, then back to me with a look or defeat on her face.

"Don't worry about the rain, Madam, I have an umbrella ready for you to step out of the car."

His voice is numb, like he's trying very hard to hold back the sound of his chattering teeth.

I don't blame him. It must be freezing in the pouring rain wearing only a suit.

She smiles at him again and steps out of the car. The man holds the umbrella steady for her, gently shutting the door with professional skill, and leads her to the back of the car to help retrieve some of her luggage.

I adjust myself and to lean out toward the back window, watching the couple curiously.

My heart goes out to the chauffeur as the ecstatic woman tries to make him laugh by telling him of one of her many amusing memories. I can hear it way over here in the car.

Closing my two eyes, I try to imagine what this place must be like.

The rain echoes off the ceiling and windows. The scent of freshly mowed grace is intensified by the fresh rain.

Dead.

This place smells dead.

Perfection is mandatory; imperfections are killed and discarded in order to complete the artificial beauty.

A place like this…

My torso starts sliding sideways, dragging the rest of me with, directly toward the black seat cushion.

I don't brace myself, and land on it with a thud.

I fell.

But, I wonder, can you still call it falling when you've seen it starting to happen, yet did nothing to stop it when you could have, on your own free will?

My eyes open again, staring, and not staring, at the fabric of the seat as it rises higher, towering over me, who lays nearly a foot below.

Though I look at it with out blinking, I couldn't even tell you the colors of the thread. My eyes are merely open, not devouring every detail possible.

Now…

The threading mixes in with the next, forming a crisscross pattern.

Blue.

Every other thread is blue.

Funny.

The moment you realize you aren't looking, you immediately do, and before you notice…

…you have already eaten everything with your eyes.

A small saddened smile graces my lips.

How is that for ironic?

_Tap! Tap! Tap!_

That woman is knocking on the glass.

I give her the benefit of a tilt of the head in her direction.

She repays me with a summoning wave of her hand, before walking away with the chauffer, his sheltering umbrella above her.

I need to get up now, don't I?

I sigh and struggle to make myself vertical again.

I've gotten very stiff from this trip; I'll need a hot shower to get relaxed again.

I reach down and grab a small black Nike duffel bag off of the floor, and swing it onto my back like a backpack. Then I return my hand to the ground to retrieve my discarded socks and shoes, clumsily putting them back on.

Grabbing the ice cold metal handle of the door, I push and watch it swing open.

One foot…

Both feet…

I step out into the pouring rain, immediately starting to soak.

* * *

The rain pierces me like pinpoint-sharp spears.

They tear through me, embedding themselves in the grass behind me, leaving me with only the wound of cold.

Walking a few steps before turning around to return the door to its cage, I carry on.

My hands are cold, so I shove them in my back pockets trying to warm them, even though my pants are soaked through with water.

The two adults are far ahead of me, but the distance is shortening.

The chauffer does not walk fast.

Even if it could mean illness, he still chooses to retain his servant like form.

My face turns toward the sky, getting pelted by the rain.

One lands in my eye, sliding down my chin like a tear, along with all the other drops of falling water.

A shattering image of lightning streaks across the sky, lighting it momentarily in a bright flash.

Has my face been illuminated too?

Who knows.

The tense aching in my neck gets worse, so I return it to a lower position and continue walking, only to realize I was at my destination.

A large white wall…

…that is not a wall.

Thunder sounds all the way to my stomach, making the white mass before me more ominous.

Pillars.

Six of them, all supporting the massive white building.

Gray clouds block my view of the top, but it is safe to assume it is three stories tall.

I see few windows.

It's like the building is a cage, incapable of producing light, yet taunting its captives with its look, keeping them content.

A redwood door is encased in shadows far into a pathway leading through two of the gleaming beams.

Where I'm standing, this building looks like a demon, catching all light, and keeping it no matter how hard it begs to be let go.

"Honey…"

The woman is standing under the overhanging shelter of the roof, right next to the redwood door. The chauffer had already gone inside, on the permission of her.

"Let's go inside now, shall we? It's time to meet everyone." she urges with a forced smile.

I slightly nod, just to calm her quavering nerves, walking forward.

The moment I'm under the balcony like roof, the rain is immediately cut off form me, and I'm washed over with a sudden chill.

Seeing me coming, the woman disappears through the doorway.

I fallow soon afterward.

* * *

"It's a pleasure to meet you." came the happy filled voice of the woman.

The door shuts behind me with a loud echoing _THUD! _

I sense eyes on me.

I counter with my own eyes searching for the source.

They wander around a shell of a room, large and open, with barely anything inside.

It resonates of a golden color, the floors, the ceiling, the walls…they all reek of it.

Expensive looking antique vases atop elegantly carved wooden dressers, beautiful silken curtains covering what little windows there are, a large fireplace at the foot of a large double grand staircase, and at the base…

I freeze.

I've found the eyes that have been burning holes into my soul.

Dark onyx eyes covered by midnight black hair, gleaming like a forbidden treasure.

Cold…heartless…

…yet they belonged to the most stunning faces I've ever seen.

The two of them look alike, definitely brothers…

The older looking one, leaning against the railing of the stair case with his arms tightly folded across his chest, appears to be in his later teens. He has a slightly darker complexion than his younger self, seems to have a great sense of self control, and a wisdom that not many people his age could, yet his face is firm and threatening …

He's just like his chauffer…

…no smile, just a grim expression.

The second, younger, one is even more stunning.

His complexion is whitely pale, even against the white staircase he's sitting crouched upon, almost like he's sick, and the way he holds himself, it's as if he's closed himself off from the world…yet he's ready to defend himself from anything that enters his space. And his face…its heart shaped…and looks like it's from a marbled angel statue.

Both of them seem to give off an aura of nobility, and can back it up with their looks…

…and their stares, both of which are glaring at me…

"Baby, these are your new brothers," the woman suddenly says from her place right next to me. She raises a soft hand and points toward the darker skinned male. "Itachi, he's seventeen, and Sasuke. Sasuke is your age, Honey, fifteen years old. I know you two are going to be very close. Oh, and you'll get to meet my new husband tomorrow!" she adds with a small giggle, even though she is trying hard to hold in her excitement.

They continue to look me over, though Sasuke is slightly taken back by what the woman said about the two of us being "close", trying to decide what exactly I am to them.

As their glances increase in intensity, I start to get self conscious, and, on instinct, adjust the Nike bag strapped on my back with my elbow

They are godlike creatures who live in a high palace.

I am merely an intruder in their realm.

I stare down at my attire; baggy black sweatpants, a big bulky black sweater with the logo for a local sports shop, and a dark beanie completely covering my head, sneakers covered in mud and water from my walk over to the house from the car…

In fact…

…I'm _completely_ wet.

Rain water is dripping down off my face from my soaked through hat, and my clothes are sticking to me tightly, making it hard to turn without the fabric feeling uncomfortable.

I glance behind me.

The floor is wet too, like someone dragged a saturated towel along it.

I turn back to the two overwhelming gods.

I feel small.

And I'm cold.

Freezing actually…

A chill hangs in the air, and I find myself shivering.

I bring my hands up to start rubbing my arms slightly, trying to heat them up.

"You should take a shower before you catch a cold."

I stop moving and snap my attention back to the gods.

"Unfortunately, our bathrooms are currently being remodeled by a designer, so I'm afraid we don't have one for you to use." It's Itachi who's talking. His voice is like velvet. Smooth and pleasing, yet I get an ominous feeling that he is rather harsh with his voice at times too. "You're welcome to use the bathroom in either Sasuke or my suites, if that would suit your need."

Sasuke makes a sound like a disagreeing snort, turning slightly so he wouldn't have to look at me.

"I wouldn't want to be a burden." I say in return. To them, I'm sure it sound like a polite return to his offer, but in fact, I have put in a slight sense of sarcasm and malice into it.

I do not like these people.

"Darling, you're going to get sick if you don't take a hot shower, that rain was freezing and you were out there longer than I was, and all you have is that wet sweater!" the woman cries. She shows off her attire slightly so that I can see that she is wearing a thicker designer raincoat.

"If you don't feel comfortable using our private showers, we have a gardener who lives in a cabin out back. I'm sure he'd be willing to lend you his." Sasuke says suddenly, voice dripping in a tone that screams insult and sarcasm.

I glare at him, slightly hissing under my breath.

I give a mock bow of respect. "I'll be taking my leave then."

With that, I spin on my heals and spring for the door, rushing to get out of that room as fast as I can.

* * *

It's not raining as much anymore, nor as hard at least, but to me that makes things worse, for a wind has picked up and my soaked frame has been refrozen against me.

My shoes scuffle against the paved sidewalk as I follow it to the back of the house.

The trees out here aren't as perfect as the ones in the front, but they're still unnatural, and I can't help but quicken my pace at the sight of them.

Then I see it.

A small log cabin, maybe only the size of a little house, wedged in between two giant evergreens.

I quicken my pace again.

The sidewalk is cut off by a wooden porch ejecting itself from the rest of the cabin, I walk along it until I find a small tanish brown door.

I knock quickly five times.

While I'm waiting for an answer I let my eyes wander around the building. There are windmills nailed into the porch so they stay vertically upright at all times, and there's a red fan like object, or perhaps it's a decoration, placed against the wall on the left side of the door. When I take a closer look I realize it's decorated with a scene of a setting sun over a lake, a lone heron getting ready to take flight atop the waters.

A gust of wind blows, making me so cold my teeth chatter.

I hit my knuckles against the wood of the door again, this time louder, faster, and longer.

I keep doing so until I finally hear a clicking behind it, and watch as it opens up revealing…

"What do you want!? I was eating my ramen you know! Come back later, idiot!"

I stare, stunned, at the loud mouthed boy in front of me.

He appears to be my age, but looks a lot younger because of the childish scowl placed on his face. He's definitely not like the brothers of the mansion. No, this one has tan skin, and a bright shade of blonde hair, so blonde it's safe to call it golden. The boy is annoyed, irritated, and annoying all rolled into one as he waits for my response.

I stutter an illegible amount of sounds.

"What's your problem?" he asked, getting really pissed off at me. He crossed his arms and leans his shoulder against the frame of the door, slightly bending his legs as he did.

It was then I realize he's only wearing a pair of green frog boxers.

I look away.

"I need to borrow your shower." I mumble.

He gives me a look.

"You need to what?"

"I need to borrow your shower!" I say louder, managing to look at him this time without stuttering.

"Who are you and where are you from?" he demands suddenly.

I'm taken back.

"I'm supposed to be living in the Uchiha mansion as of today, but it poured as I got out of my car and I got all wet and now I'm freezing." I hiss.

"Why don't you just use one of the Uchiha's showers…they've got like…five." he said after a while, counting the number of showers off of his fingers.

"They're remodeling them, and the only ones left were the ones privately used by Itachi and Sasuke, and like hell am I gonna use those!" my voice gets louder as I continue on.

Upon hearing the name Sasuke, the boy in front of me tensed.

He relaxes shortly after and stares at me, inspecting me.

Observing my drowned looking condition, he gives a grunt like sigh and stands up strait again, and backs away from the door enough to leave a squeeze through space under his arm, his other one waving me inside.

He grunts again. "What type of idiot stands out in the rain anyway… Idiot!" he continues as I walk through the door. "You better not be a pervert or something, I'm warning you. I've got a kettle of boiling hot water and I'm not afraid to use it!"

His house is a complete mess.

Empty boxes of instant noodles are overflowing the counters, dirty clothes, garbage, and other unidentifiable things litter everywhere else. I have to step over a glass plate on the floor just to follow him.

"Shower's in the back." he says boredly, swinging his head in the general direction of where "back" was, then wandering back to the kitchen where another bowl of instant noodles awaited him.

I nod and head over there, avoiding stepping on anything too disgusting while I travel.

Somehow I manage to find it.

I sigh in relief.

It's not as bad as I had hoped.

Mildew stains are everywhere, the toilet seat is up and un-flushed, but the sink was relatively clean with just a bottle of toothpaste and a toothbrush accompanying it.

I throw the duffel bag into a corner before I turn toward the small shower located in the corner, the I reach out to the pull back its gray curtain.

I start the water, turning it to High on the warmth meter.

The moment the hot water stars coming out, I get a huge shiver.

Realizing now how incredibly cold I was, I immediately start to strip out of my soaking clothing. I pull of my hat letting my hair shaggily fall down, my sweater came off after a few seconds of trial, then my Slipknot shirt after that. I recheck the water before I do anything else to make sure it's warm enough, then continue stripping. After a minute of tug of war with my shoes and sweatpants, I manage to get those off too.

When I finish getting ready I step into the shower, where hot water waits for me at the bottom of it.

It burns my feet at first, but the feeling is like heaven after my cold encounter with the rain. When fully inside I close the curtain and press down the lever to start the shower.

It comes out in a spray of Tension-Away.

Every ache in my body from the car ride is replaced by a calming happy feeling that I haven't felt for a while as the sensations of warmth beats down on my naked skin.

I wanted to stay here forever.

Unfortunately I soon became completely warm again, much too fast for my liking, yet I decided not to waste the gardener's water, and turned off its supply. I reach for a towel that I hope is clean, but then again, it doesn't really matter to me that much how clean it is, as long as it was dry, then stepped out.

Wrapping the towel around myself, I reach down and collect all my wet clothes, then grab my duffel bag to fish out fresh, dry ones.

I manage to find a red sleeveless, form fitting T-shirt, a comb, and a pair of jean shorts. To my incredibly surprise, I also find my pair of dark brown leathered sandals. After slipping on this new attire, drying off the somewhat wet floor with the towel, hanging it up to dry, and combing my hair in the foggy mirror, I head out the door to leave.

The blonde haired loud mouthed boy is still sitting at the table slurping way at his, most likely, third ramen when I walk by him.

I utter a "Thanks for the shower!" to him, and reach for the door leading to the outside world, however, before I do I am interrupted by a loud thud.

I spin around to find the noise.

The blonde had fallen off his chair onto the floor, and he's staring at me like I'm a ghost.

"Y-y-y-you're-" came his stuttering.

"Yes? I'm a what?"

"You're a girl!?" he screams.

I give him a blank stare, trying to figure out myself if this kid was actually being serious or not. I decide not to let it bother me and start head out the door.

A gust of wind bursts in as I open it, catching and entangling my long pink hair as it does.

* * *

**Sorry this is such a long chapter, I just wanted all this to happen in the first chapter. My other chapters to this won't be as long, I swear!**

**Please tell me what you think, but I just hope people read it.**

**I know Sakura is way out of character, but you'll learn why that is as the story goes on. Hope you liked it! **


	2. Forbidden Fruit

**Holy cow! This story got a lot of hits! 96! That's the second best to my Ghost Hunt story! And this one only had one chapter! Though now it's two… THANK YOU SOO MUCH FOR READING! I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT! Okay, in this chapter I'm going to go from he/she to Sasuke's POV. Just to warn you, like I said before, I don't think I write as good when I'm in he/she form, so I tried to make that part as short as possible. BUT I STILL HOPE YOU LIKE IT! And DO NOT WORRY! Gaara IS coming, it just takes time to set everything up! Be patient!**

**Oh, and I do not know Sakura's mother's name…do they even say what it is? So I'm going to call her Mai later on. If she actually does have a name, please tell me so I can change it.**

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

The moment my foot crosses through the door a sense of emptiness rushes upon me. Looking around I see nothing. No people, no life, only my own.

Have they already gone to bed? Strange, it's only nine o'clock.

Not that I can blame them, today was incredibly tiring, even for me.

Deciding I better go to bed as well, I start heading up the grand staircase, the only thing leading out of this dark room, duffle bag in hand.

The air is cold as I work my way up the stairs, but it's not a cold caused by an air-conditioning system, it's more like a feeling you get when you're in a strange empty building, where nothing is living besides you.

I shiver.

I really don't like this place.

The last step disappears behind me, and I find myself in a depressing situation.

"…where's my bedroom…"

Ahead of me are a countless number of doors, all redwood, all of them identical to the ones next to them in every single way.

I sigh in defeat, drop my duffel bag, and fall into a sitting position on the floor. I lean back until I'm lying on its cold marble, and close my eyes.

None of this feels real.

Yet it all feels very nostalgic. I wonder why that is.

Is it all a dream?

Is that why I'm able to be so calm?

No.

I know better than that.

It will take much more than moving into the Uchiha estate to make me waver.

"If you sleep there you'll catch a cold!"

I open my heavy eyeslids, filling their vision with the rafters of the ceiling.

"Are you Miss Sakura Haruno?"

The voice is ringing in my ears, a high pitched bell.

I slightly nod my head.

"Miss Haruno! It is you! What are you doing on the floor?" came her frantic shrieks.

I wince, her loudness hurt my ears.

"Did you, by any chance, get lost!?" she gasps, as if it was her fault I did not know which room was my own.

I flip over slightly, so that I am still lying down, but am being supported by the strength of my arms. I lift my head, which has become incredibly heavy with my tiredness, to look at the woman who was so emotional about me.

My eyes widen slightly as they take in the woman before them.

"What should I do? Master Fugaku will certainly be mad at me if he were to find out…" she worries aloud, placing a hand in front of her mouth, as if trying to lock that knowledge in her rosy lips.

Her dark chocolate hair waves and spirals, before finally resting upon her shoulders, yet it is thick enough to pull some of the locks back into a bun. Her eyes are honey colored, soft, and full of life, yet they are also filled with worry. She is quite young, maybe only in her early twenties, thus retaining smooth skin, and a face blessed with visible cheekbones.

She has not noticed me staring at her, since she is so busy fretting about her punishment from someone called Fugaku.

I take this chance to take in a more detailed look of the clothes she is wearing. It consists of a black skirt hanging down to her knees, a white blouse with lace and decorative buttons, and a vest covering her blouse that's the same color as her skirt. Finishing off her uniform is a piece of cloth encasing her bun with a lacy white fabric.

"Are you the maid of the household?"

She jumps, remembering that I was there, after she had been rambling to herself.

"Y-Yes! I am!" she stuttered, a slight look of fear in her eyes at my intense gaze.

"Do you know where my bedroom is?" I ask in a monotonous tone.

"Of course, Young Miss. Right this way." she answers respectfully, directing her hand toward the direction of my room.

I manage to stand up, though I'm so tired I can barely walk, grab hold of the strap of my duffel bag, and follow after her.

We walk along the dark hallway, the maid leading the way, me looking for landmarks to help me remember where to go.

"We're here, Miss Haruno." she says suddenly, stopping in front of a redwood door.

I stop as well, a slight emotion of surprise flashes across my eyes as I look at the maid, confirming where we were.

Glancing around, I find a landmark; a painting of a pink cherry blossom in full bloom, hanging directly across from my door,

A small smile slides up my skin.

How ironic, in more ways than one.

The maid holds open the door for me, and I walk inside. She was about to close it when I stopped it with my hand. "Thank you. You don't have to call me Miss Haruno you know, Sakura would do just fine."

A wave of horror crosses her face. "I could never do that! We are of much too different a rank!"

Her words embed themselves like a knife into my heart.

"I am not an Uchiha, I am a Haruno. I have no need for respect." I hiss. My hand slides off the door, causing it to close by itself, leaving the maid out in the hallway, stunned with a complete loss for words.

I stand against the door, listening to the sound of the maid's echoing footsteps as she walks away.

My hand reaches for my heart, clawing at it with a slight sense of urgency. The feeling the maid gave me…it made me sick.

A wave of sadness engulfs me, stealing my will to stand.

I slide down the door until I'm sitting again. I pull me hand back and examine it. It's still clutched, as if holding my invisible beating heart.

_I am not an Uchiha…_

Are those words entirely true?

I am not of their blood, yet I am treated differently because we live in the same house.

My eyes close, letting these new emotions wash over me, like a deep overwhelming sea.

_I am a Haruno…_

Yet I am no longer a complete Hurano anymore, my common name has been tarnished with the nobility of the Uchiha name.

I am broken, aren't I?

Why do I feel so strange by the thought? I've known for a long time...

I have always... been broken.

I can still remember how I broke…two years ago…

I shake my head frantically, causing my long pink hair to catch itself in my mouth. I cough and spit it back out.

My head lifts toward the white ceiling.

These feelings, these doubts, have not resided in me in a long time. I welcome them back with open arms. They prove I still have not lost my myself, nor my soul. They prove that I still exist.

Another wave of emotion crashes down on me, washing away all others.

Calm.

I find myself drowning in it.

With this peaceful feeling, my eyes finally close completely, and my consciousness is lost.

* * *

_**Normal POV**_

"Honey, did you take your pills this morning?" a red haired woman calls as she cooks a pair of eggs on a frying pan in front of her, directing her question to the girl sitting on a stool next to the counter behind her.

No verbal response is given, the only thing that proves the girl had heard the request was the fact the said girl reaches into the pocket of her dark green blouse, pulling out a hand sized rectangular container.

Pale fingers unclasp the clip on the cover, flips open the lid, sliding out all the many pills in one of the container's three compartments. Her fist carries the pills to her mouth, shoves them in boredly, and swallows.

The container returns to her pocket, as if it never even existed.

The woman stops poking at the eggs she's making, turning completely around to face the pink haired girl, a large smile plastered on her face. "My new husband will be home in a bit, so you can talk to him then, okay, Honey?"

She's given a blank stare.

The woman, unfazed, puts her hands on her hip, careful not to let the spatula touch her clothes. "I was thinking of a large family dinner tonight so we can get to know everyone better. What do you think? Any ideas of what we should eat? What are you going to wear? You should try to look nice."

The girl just traces her finger along the different lines of wood on the counter, not bothering to answer so many questions.

The woman sighed.

"What am I going to do without everyone's input?" she said worriedly.

* * *

_**Sasuke's POV**_

I stare at my distorted reflection in the foggy mirror, bracing myself against the sink's edge with two hands.

My hair is still soaked from the morning shower I took over half an hour ago, sticking itself annoyingly onto my skin.

My dark eyes are still, cold, and empty; abyssal holes staring back at me, like always.

I grit my teeth.

How could he?

How could my father marry another woman, especially when that woman had a kid of her own? He has tarnished our family name.

I will not accept them. They are frauds using my father for his power and money.

I will show them how unwelcome they are.

Shoving myself away from the mirror, I storm out of the bathroom.

* * *

My hands are shoved in the back pockets of my white capris as I descend the stairs, making my way toward the kitchen for Sunday's breakfast.

I may look like I'm content and in control, but in reality it's as though a bomb has been set off in my emotional department; anger and loathing teaming up to wage war over all other emotions. Anyone could see this by the heated glare I'm giving off to everything around me.

I turn around the corner leading into the kitchen, and stop dead in my tracks.

The stool next to the long counter is occupied by a seated figure in a knee length black skirt, stunningly beautiful pale muscular legs placed nonchalantly off to the left of her occupied station, an unfamiliar girl. Her arm moving slightly, which I realized is caused by her fingers tracing something onto the marble surface of the countertop.

I walk forward, revealing myself to the room.

"Ah, good morning Sasuke!" an incredibly perky voice calls.

The unknown girl turns her head slightly, taking one glance at me, then returning to her original position.

It's then I notice the other person in the room.

I tense as the owner of the voice enters my view.

I send my glare to the happily smiling woman only living here to try and con my father, on the other side of the counter. After a few seconds of this I continue to walk forward, grabbing another stool and pulling it up next to the strange girl at the counter, but leaving enough space between us so that I can observe her thoroughly.

Pink hair falls around her form in silky waves, framing her round face. Her skin is smooth and pale, without scars or acne; an ivory treasure worthy of hunting.

The girl's delicate finger traces an eight repeatedly into the smooth surface of the counter, never stopping, completing curves exactly the same at each turn. She's so focused on her moving finger that she doesn't even notice me staring at her.

It couldn't have worked out better, now I can observe her more closely, only slightly aware that a glass of orange juice has been placed in front of me by the conning woman.

I rest my elbow on the counter and place my chin on my hand, so that I could lean closer to her without anyone noticing.

Her face is heart shaped, not just round, giving off a soft angelic feeling from just looking at it.

Two gentle lips, a natural rosy pink in color, spread apart slightly, letting a small portion her tongue slide out, wetting her lower lip, before allowing it to return into her mouth.

My heart flutters at the movement, an intense heat works its way through my body, and I can't help but wonder what those lips would taste like upon my own.

I have to clench my fist to keep from reaching out and touching her.

"Is something wrong?"

I snap out of my staring.

Wonder girl is looking at me with a bored yet curious expression.

Somehow I manage to tear my gaze away from her mouth to her eyes, only to have it stolen again in a hypnotic trance.

I gasp quietly, not sure if she heard me or not.

The girl's eyes steal away all thoughts, and replace them with the image of emerald jewels. Two seas of liquid emerald glistening in the overhead light.

She's so beautiful…

"What's so interesting about my face?" she says with a cold wisp of threatening venom resonating off her voice. The tone only makes her seem like a forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eve, only she is able to take care of herself. "Well?"

I'm at a loss for words, suddenly realizing how close I've gotten to her without me realizing.

"…I…I…" I try to come up with an excuse but nothing comes…

I stop, taking in my surroundings, noticing a slight odor hanging throughout the air.

"Is something burning?"

"Oh no!"

Both of us turn to see the shrieking woman standing by the stove.

She digs her spatula around the frying pan, returning it with a glob of brown…something, sliding the glob onto a plate.

"I burnt the eggs!" she announces, nearly on the verge of tears. "Now what am I going to do?"

She's giving off a puppy pout, bottom lip sticking out innocently.

I have to turn away to keep from losing my free will.

A scraping noise catches my attention to my counter partner. A pale hand draws a fork across the plate, picking up the burnt eggs, shoveling them into her mouth, and placing the fork back onto the napkin it came from.

I stare as she swallows, slightly in admiration, as well as horror.

"Gochisosama"

The eyes of the woman opposite from us illuminate with a new found joy.

She nearly pounces across the table to the girl to thank her. "You actually ate it! I'm so happy!"

The girl's hand reaches out to my side of the counter, brushing across my skin as it does.

My heart leaps and my body goes stiff.

Her skin feels so warm!

The burning in my body increases dramatically and very soon I will sweat unless I get away from her touch.

She pulls her hand back, much to my relief -and slightly to my depression, dragging with it my glass of orange juice.

Lifting it to her mouth, she chugs the whole thing down.

Her hand slams the empty glass down onto the table, leaving her gasping from the lack of air while she drank.

Still in shock, I stare.

She turns toward me with a slight ebarrassed blush.

"What, you weren't drinking it..."

"Baby, why don't you go get ready to meet Fugaku? He'll be home any minute!" the woman says.

I freeze.

Baby, wasn't that what she called…

"Yeah, you're right. I'll be leaving now." With that, the girl gets up and walks away.

"What's your name?" I call suddenly before she's out of hearing range.

"Sakura Haruno."

My heart slams in my chest so hard I have a sickening feeling that it will rip out my chest.

"I'll be going too." I inform quickly, running to get out of the room as fast as I can, racing up the stairs toward the bedrooms.

* * *

I brace myself against the cool wall, letting myself calm down. In front of me is the door I needed to go in, but there was no way I was going in as the wreck I was now.

I need to talk to someone about what just happened, and the only person I could talk about this with is…

I open the door to his room and step inside. "Itachi!"

"What is it, Sasuke?" my older brother calls back from his bed. He's sitting on the edge of it, reading a magazine.

I step further into his room, taking in the familiar place.

The walls are all white, just like in my own bedroom, and a queen sized bed is placed in the center of the room along the wall, a small dresser is placed in the corner, a desk with a computer and stereo as well as other electronic devices sitting atop it, and in a corner, to the of other side the door I just walked through, is another door leading to the large walk-in-closet.

I lean against his wall, crossing my arms in what could be considered a "cool" manner.

He doesn't even look at me, he just keep reading his magazine, meaning I need to start the conversation.

"Did you know our new sibling is a girl?"

He puts the magazine down onto the bed, giving me his full attention.

"Yes, I know."

I try to conceal my shock.

"How did you know?" I question, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

A smirk creeps its way up his mouth, almost becoming a smile, he stands up and walks toward me.

He leans in toward me, lifts his hand…

I flinch, knowing what's coming.

…he pokes my forehead with his middle and pointer finger.

"Ow..." I rub my hand against my forehead lightly, over the spot most likely becoming red.

"Foolish little brother, even under all those baggy clothes, any man could tell she was female." He looks upward slightly, as if thinking, then turns to me again. "I would have been able to tell right away when I was around thirteen…but don't worry, even at fifteen you are still yet to mature."

I growl. "I've hit puberty already, Itachi."

He let's out a small chuckle and ruffles my hair, ignoring the slight childish glare I'm giving him. "Yes, I can tell, you're incredibly feverish right now. Been doing something you'd like to talk about? Maybe ask some questions from someone more experienced?"

I try not to, but I can feel my face heating up as a blush makes its way across it.

"No."

He chuckles again. "Okay, but don't be afraid to ask when your "time" comes."

My eyes stare at him as he adjusts his ponytail. "That girl, her name is Sakura Haruno. She's… different, isn't she…"

He freezes immediately after the words come out of my mouth, hands retreat from his hair, before he stares at me with a seriousness that almost makes me crouch into a corner.

"Don't even think about it." he hissed, giving me the full blast of the threat in his words.

"Think about what?" I counter.

He adds more venom to his speech. "Don't think about that Haruno girl as a female, she's our sister now, anything besides that would be shunned, leaving our family name in disgrace beyond repair."

"What the hell makes you think that!?" I nearly scream at him.

He looks me up and down. "You're incredibly warm, and you're even sweating, yet you haven't been doing any exercise. I'm betting you even thought about touching her, maybe even kissing her…"

Bulls-eye.

Knowing he hit the mark, he softens his gaze just slightly, returning to his serious older brother posture. "Father may have agreed to you two dating, but even then it would be pushing it considering our power difference. If he did he would have only agreed because of their family's money, which they have quite a bit of. Now that idea is completely impossible to happen. He has married her mother, making you and Sakura related." he leans forward again, pinning me closer to the wall and slamming his hand to the part next to my head, caging me in so that I can only look into his face. I gulp. "Don't even look at her, don't even THINK of her, in a romantic way. Do you understand? Sakura Haruno is off limits to you. She is forbidden!"

He sends me one last glare, before relaxing and pushing himself away from the wall.

Not even knowing I was tense, I find myself relaxing too, giving a small sigh of relief that that was all the punishment he was going to give me.

He returns to his bed, picks up his magazine, and starts reading again. "I'm going to take a shower now, please see yourself out."

I nod, turn around, and walk out of the room, closing the door silently behind me.

* * *

**What did you think? Hope it wasn't TOO long, I know I said I would make this chapter shorter…but I just started typing and then I kept going…and going…and going…AND GOING!... But…it ended, eventually.**

**Thank you to all of you who read and reviewed, I hope you keep reading!**


	3. Unwanted Personality

**Alrighty then, I am starting to revise this story now. I'm just taking out small things at first (I rather like how I wrote most of the chapters) The thing taken from this one was the videotape. I had originally had it where Lee had died and she had caught his death on videotape, but couldn't leave behind the only true evidence of his existance (er... something along those lines...) So, Yada Yada Yada, an emotional wreck and a couple break downs later... TADA! Bam! Video tape brought up!**

**NO.**

**Too many loose ends, too many things to match up, too many time consuming rereading, too much planning, too much work for a lazy procrastinating me!**

**So I'm basically just going to focuse on Sakura and her...er... problem.**

**Sorry for any inconveniences and/or confusion.**

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

I stare at the unknown figure in front of me.

She's pale, calm, collected, and incredibly ladylike; nothing at all like what I know myself to be.

I lean in closer to get a better look, she does the same.

Her silken pink hair is adjusted in spiraling ringlets above her head, decorated with shards of crystal and jeweled butterfly clips, each of which must have cost a small fortune.

I cringe.

Her skin is soft and painted with a small rosy color on her cheeks; an artificial blush, and her lips are a deep glossy red. Above her eyes is a glittering color of sea foam green, accompanied by a light hue of a chalky peach eye-shadow, both of which make her eyes seem sparkle in an unnatural, yet beautiful, way.

As I continue observing this unknown woman a heaviness sets into my heart.

She's beautiful.

Am I as beautiful as her? Am I even comparable?

Managing to tear my gaze away from this perfect goddess, I soon find myself walking down the well groomed carpeted halls.

But it is not me who is walking, not really.

It's true that I am seeing everything as my body moves, but I do not want it to move. It's as though it has a mind of its own, and I am merely an inaudible hostage forced to watch my captured body be used against my will.

It's terrifying, yet the woman manages to keep a perfect posture, with a small smile gracing her painted lips, as though she is used to this kind of thing happening all the time.

Her eyes are closed in a delicate manner, as though it is disrespectful to see where you're walking, and this action only adds to my paranoia. I am not able to control this body of mine, and I am no longer able to see what this body is doing. The only thing I can do is be pulled forcibly by its movements, making our way to wherever this demon wants to go.

Please let it end.

We're descending the stairs now, me and this zombie, very delicately, one foot at a time, one graceful step per stair, both feet landing on the same step at some point.

It's taking forever.

Someone is definitely going to notice I've been possessed. It's so obvious this person is not me. I could never pull off such a respectful move. It's only a matter of time before I'm freed from this monster's grasp.

Eyelids flutter open slowly, almost in a seductive way, allowing light to flood into my once black vision, momentarily blinding me.

The blindness fades away and I find myself in the center of the great hall, the room where I first came in from the outside, though it is brighter than before, now that the sun has broken in through the windows. Immediately I notice that there are slight changes. The main of which causes me to tense, though this captured body does not.

I am not alone.

Before me are the two Uchiha brothers, Itachi and Sasuke, both dressed in what appear to be tuxedoes, but they are less fancy than that of a regular tux, though only slightly. That woman is here too, the one that forced me to live in this God-forsaken place. Her sholder length reddish hair is pulled back into a thick French braid which is also, like my own hair, decorated with clips and crystals, jewels, and even a slight glittering dust, all of which make her seem younger than what she really is. She smiles when she seems me, the light from the windows reflecting off her figure, giving off the illusion that she's glowing. She turns back to an unfamiliar man.

This man gives a slight smile to the woman, though it doesn't reach his eyes, before he turns his attention to me.

My blood runs cold.

His pupils are liquid coal embedded into his eyes, and his face is firm and stoic, giving him an older appearance than what he really is. Wrinkles reach along the edges of his eyes, symbols of long nights of stress, and along his well defined nose are deep lines, signaling his cheekbones, much too alike to a certain teenager I live with, but the one thing that scares me the most about him…is his aura.

The aura I get from him is a terrifying one.

It is loveless…

…and it's cold.

My lips part against my will and a slow soft voice works its way out of my throat. "Good evening, you must be Fugaku Uchiha. My name is Sakura Haruno, Mai's daughter. It is a great pleasure to meet you, sir, for both you and your work have held my highest respect for a long time." My body bends into a low, delicate, respectful bow. "I look forward to spending time with your family."

Why?

Why am I doing this?

I bow to no one!

"Is that so?" came the deep emotionless voice of Fugaku.

A small polite smile stretches across my face as I return to my strait posture.

It's then I notice the slightly surprised faces of Sasuke and Itachi. They must not have known I could act like this. Though I couldn't get it to sound outside my stolen body, I can't help but start laughing to myself. If only they knew I was overtaken by this perfect person, they would be shocked when they found out the differences in our personalities.

The woman suddenly decides to chime in. "It's true. She has done research on your work and is a huge fan of that computer game your company made. Isn't that right, Darling?" she finishes, a large smile lighting up her figure.

A deep blush makes its way across my face.

"Yes sir. The very fact that you invented a game to teach young people to program computers and create software on their own was enough to impress me, but when I actually tried it myself, I found that it was too much for me to not be addicted as well. I am now a regular player."

Another smile makes its way across Fugaku's face, though it's not one of happiness, it gives off more of a feeling of pride.

"It pleases me to see that you understand the reason that program was created, but it was not originally my idea." he starts, voice vibrating in its deep tone. My head tilts to the side in a polite manner of confusion. "The idea actually came from my son, Itachi."

My body turns, allowing me to face Itachi, then, much to my disgust, it bows to him. Not as low and respectful as it had for Fugaku, but it is a courteous bow none the less.

Itachi looks at me, slightly taken back by the action, but then nods his head politely in return, much to the annoyance of Sasuke, who is now clenching his fists.

Dammit!

I'm screaming now, trapped inside this body, watching it make a fool of everything I stand for. Perhaps I would have bowed to Fugaku on my own, but not to Itachi, never to him! I hate this! Why can't I do anything!?

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Sakura, but I am afraid we will have to separate for now. Dinner will be ready soon, so it is only customary that we ready ourselves for that. We can discuss more then. You may leave."

My body bows once again, before it starts to retreat up the stairs toward my bedroom.

"Dinner is going to be so great tonight! I picked out the menu and everything!" I hear the woman say in an ecstatic manner before she's completely blocked out by the growing distance between us.

* * *

The hallways disappears behind me much faster than they had before, much to my relief. In a matter of moments I arrive back at my room. I yank the door open, throw myself inside, close it quickly, and then finally allow a large sigh of relief to escape my lungs.

My fist clenches and it slams into the wall, creating a soft echo throughout the room.

I blink.

Bringing my hand to my face I flex it, move it around, then smile.

I have control of my body again.

The perfect demon girl is gone.

I consider laughing, or perhaps dancing, but that would be awkward to explain should anyone ask what I was doing, so instead I work my way to the far wall where all my bags are located, and start to unpack.

* * *

I don't know how much time has passed, but I assume it was quite a bit, for the sun is starting to set again and I was even able to set up all my painting easels and stools.

Oh well, I only have a little more to unpack anyway, just another shirt and then my _very _personal belongings, which I wouldn't allow anyone to take away from me. I grab the last shirt, a pale red top that hangs off my shoulders, and hang it up in my nearly filled walk-in-closet…or try to.

Much to my dismay, it falls onto the floor.

Sighing I bend down to pick it up. Managing to hang up my shirt, I return to my duffel bag.

The last things to be taken out of my bag are just a couple of yearbooks, reading material, and a large silver plated photo album of my favorite pictures from my past life before I had to move in with the Uchihas, all of which I place onto the bookshelf built into the my bed's headboard.

I sigh, once again, this time in exhaustion.

There's still a bit of time left before I have to go down for dinner, a lot of time actually, so I decide to do what I always do when I have time.

I decide to paint.

I go to my newly loaded dresser and grab a baggy white shirt and a pair of worn out shorts, sliding off my outfit used to greet the "great" Fugaku Uchiha, which had consisted of a black dress shirt with a gold chain-like design running around it's fluttering elbow length sleeves, and a long black skirt with layers of ruffles of fabric.

I stare at my old removed clothes, slightly sick that I would actually wear such a disgustingly frilly skirt, before heading toward the mirror mounted on my wall, laying my painting clothes on the floor, in order to get the pretty _things_ out of my hair.

The next fifteen minutes are spent with me poking and plucking out the ridiculously small objects from my hair and trying to get all the bobby pins away from the pink ringlets of my curls.

"Damn it all." I growl as the last bobby-pin comes out. My scalp is numb from all the painful pulling done to my hair, but I soon find myself liking the returned me.

My face has been kept the way it was, just for the dinner tonight, but since my hair isn't as decorative as before, you can hardly tell I have any makeup on.

My long, uncommonly pink, tresses fall around my face, giving me a wilder look, not to mention the fact that I was only wearing my black bra and dark maroon panties.

If only the Uchiha's could see me now!

Pale skin lifts upward, and I find myself actually smiling at the way I look.

I am no longer the perfect step-daughter to a powerful man.

I am Sakura Haruno, the wild, barely dressed girl.

It's then I notice something slightly different about my figure. My breast are fuller, so much so that my bra feels as though it's cutting into my skin, and my hips are much wider, and I swear that there is a swollenness to my butt. I don't remember falling on it or anything… does that mean…

"That's strange. When did I grow an ass?" I ask myself, incredibly confused.

My highly _important _contemplation was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

I growl and spin myself away from the mirror toward the direction where the sound came from, sending its owner my deadliest of glares.

Leaning against the doorframe to my room is none other than Sasuke Uchiha, who is staring at me with a broad I-know-you're-secret kind of smirk on his lips.

His voice breaks our staring contest, ringing in a dark threatening tone. "You've underestimated me. You clearly don't know who I am."

I give him a smirk of my own, shifting my weight so my hip juts out to the side.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were a pervert."

His expression changes slightly, he's not as threatening, it's only then I realize he's confused. The moment I do, he seems to understand the situation.

"P-P-Put some clothes on!" he stutters, turning away quickly to the side to avoid having to look at my nearly naked body, also to hide his incredibly deep blush.

"What? You came into my room unannounced, what did you think I was doing? _Clogging?_ Besides, it's not like you haven't seen it before. You _are _an Uchiha after all. What girl wouldn't want to be your lover, _Pretty Boy_?" I say incredibly serious, though adding a slight venomous sarcasm to the nickname Pretty Boy.

He turns an even brighter shade of red, much to my amusement. "Sh-Shut up! For God's sake! PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!"

This only adds to the volume of my laughter.

What's going on with him? He's so adorable when he looks like that. He looks so innocent…

I freeze

"You…you _haven't _seen this before! Have you!?" I shout, more of a statement than a question.

Pretty Boy hits his head against the wall in humiliation, while I have to brace my laughing self against it just to keep from falling down from lack of oxygen.

"Just shut up! Excuse me for having morals! Now put on some clothes! Please!" he begs.

Pushing myself away from the wall, I bend down to grab my new clothes, sliding the cold fabric of the gray shorts up my legs, past my thighs, then finally resting them at my hipline, though my panties are still showing slightly even with the shorts on, which I have found to become a lot tighter since the last time I had worn them.

Seriously…this feel so tight on me…

I adjust the painting shirt over my arms, slip my hands through it, bringing it over my head.

"So, what are you doing here, Uchiha?" I say with incredible innocence, as though this whole scene had not just happened, as I finish pulling the top down past my chest.

He clears his throat, pressing himself away from the wall. His elbow braces himself against the cold concrete of it, while his hand supports his head.

A "cool" position.

"I know what you two are up to."

That's it? That's all he says after prancing into my room while I'm half naked? I should punch this guy!

Instead I pull of a slightly amused look, raising an eyebrow both to inquire, as well as in a seductive like manner, just to piss him off.

He doesn't meet my eyes.

He mumbles a bit, still refusing to look at me. "You're using my father, as well as our name. I'm here to tell you that you're plan is ruined. You won't get any money from us, for you aren't an actual part of the family."

I give a small shriek of hysterics.

"That's what you think! Ha! You are an idiot! I had money far before that woman even _met_ your father!" I walk over to him and slam my fist against the wall right next to his head. He jumps slightly, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. I lean in closer, nearly pressing my lips to his ear, ignoring the frightened teen, as well as his blush.

I growl at him, my voice clear as day from our distance apart. "Is that what you really think? If that's all you can come up with than I guess that proves it. All the chemicals in your hair gel must have gone to your head, Pretty Boy." I push myself away from him, but I keep my arm pressed against the wall.

Once again I lean in closer, this time to his face, giving his eyes a serious gaze.

"Don't worry so much. You'll get wrinkles. You'll be able to understand when you get older…though it already should have happened. Maybe you're just a late bloomer… Puberty has its ways…you know?"

Ha! That's gotta be a kick below the belt! I never thought I would love wounding his pride so much. It's like a naturally occurring high!

I should do this more often…

With those words I fully push myself away form him and walk back towards where my easels are, completely ignoring the scowling growl he's giving me.

"If that's the case then why did you act so perfect before?" he asks suddenly while I'm in mid-step.

I run my fingers through my long hair, watching it get tangled in them, only to fall back towards my shoulder.

"Who knows? That wasn't really me. I was just along for the ride. It was really annoying actually." I look over my shoulder at him. "You really think I would want to bow to someone that easily?"

"Why are you here?"

"That damned woman fell in love, that's why." I say quietly. "She had to go and get married, dragging me away from everything that's happened… It's sad actually. I don't know whether to slap her or thank her."

Though I don't see him, I can tell that Sasuke is taken back by my words. The silence proves it.

The next thing I hear are footsteps leading toward the door.

"Sasuke!" I call, trying to catch him before he leaves. "I have a very important question to ask you."

This catches his attention.

He turns around, grabbing hold of the doorframe as proof of his interest.

I turn to the side for him, a dead serious look on my face.

I take a deep breath.

"Do you think I have an ass?"

He stares at me.

"Don't just stare! Come on! I asked you a question! It feels bigger, so do I have an ass or don't I!?" I nearly yell.

Finally, his eyes wander down to my bum, much to my annoyance I find him staring at it…unblinking.

It's creepy.

"Well?" I snap.

He looks back up to me, a cocky smirk on his face.

"What an annoying question."

With that he completely leaves the room.

I clench my fist, ignoring the searing pain burning in my palms.

How dare he! I asked him a very important question! I wouldn't ask just anyone that! Then he took advantage of me to stare at my ass!

I scream out all my built up frustration. "That-that…THAT BASTARD!"

* * *

**Just in case you're wondering…dun dun DUN! Gaara WILL be in the next chapter! So please stay patient until that happens.**

**I don't know if I'll update this story again this weekend. I'm going to my grandpa's around 4:00, so I still have to pack for the annoyingly long drive. I think it's like three hours to get there or something...**

**Please review and I'll try to update again soon, as well as my other stories... that is, if I don't die of boredom from that car ride first...**


	4. More Rules

**Hahaha! I am back! Yay! With an INCREDIBLY! long chapter! Yeah, real sorry about that... So, I'm finally having Gaara in this chapter though it's not for a very long part, but I love the way they first meet, it's just so… **_**squeals **_

**Readers: God, she needs to get a life, and calm down.**

**Me: I have a life, I just find it rather boring! **_**smiles**_

**Readers: …**

**Me: IT'S GAARA FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!**

**Readers: …true. **

**Me: I win!**

**Readers: **_**sweatdrop**_

**So, I think this is a long enough intro, TIME FOR MEH CHAPTER! MWUHAHAHA!**

**Readers: Yay. **_**waves flag **__"enthusiastically"_

**Me: **_**pouts**_

* * *

A white canvas.

A small world full of openings for those with imagination.

A never ending book of pictures, and of dreams…

A place where you have the opportunity to create a world you long for.

I bring the brush down across its clear surface, scarring it with a single thin line, dripping as the liquid overflows from the action.

It slides down, carving its path through the endless white, leaving a trail like dark blood along its side.

Each individual path twists and turns, slow and unmoving, then falling and running the next.

The paint flows, creating a cobweb of lines, a pattern of freedom.

When I paint, I do not tell the colors where to go, instead, I let them choose their own destination.

Each drop knows where they wish to be on their own, so why should I change that?

I have seen many portraits made by many famous artists from all over the world. Their works are beautiful and perfect, yet they give off no emotion, no feeling of peace.

This is because those artists tried to play God, creating a picture of beauty out of nothing.

They have not even realized that each drop of paint has a will of its own, and that is why…

The soft bristles of my paint brush dip into the can of dark red paint, saturating it in its bloody color, then delicately, gently, I return the brush to the smooth canvas, press it lightly to its edge, and watch as it creates its own life.

…the perfect painting, one that rivals that of the work of God, has never been brought into existence.

A soft tapping rings from the door blocking the hallway.

"Yes?" I ask sweetly.

The door opens hesitantly, and soon a small round face, encased in chocolate silken curls, pokes itself into my room.

The face opens its lips nervously, letting out a shaky, uncertain voice. "Young Miss, dinner is ready. Please follow me downstairs to the dining hall."

"Of course." I say pleasantly, allowing a truly peaceful smile to grace my lips.

The maid gives a small sigh of relief at the fact that I am no longer angry at her from yesterday's first meeting.

The door opens more, and she allows her uniformed self to come completely into my room.

"I'll be ready in just a minute." I inform politely as I let one more stroke stain itself on the canvas.

"Of course, Young Miss."

She walks forward respectfully, making her way toward my side.

She stops and bows her head slightly when she's still a few meters away form me, signifying that she still understands our difference in rank. Something I actually wished she hadn't remembered. "Shall I help you with your attire, Young Miss?" she asks, head still bowed.

"No, I think I'm good by myself." I say jokingly, allowing another smile to brighten my face.

She stares at me with her honey eyes looking directly into my own. When she realizes that I am truly fine, she lets a smile of her own reply to mine, not as sincere as my own, but still showing her true feelings.

"Is there a special occasion for your happiness, Young Miss?" she questions, tilting her head to the side, which only makes her relief more noticeable.

A wave of relaxation washes over me.

I return my gaze toward my canvas, resting the handle of the paintbrush on my leg, carefully avoiding getting paint on myself. "Not really, I've just been painting is all."

I blush slightly.

I've never really told someone something so personal. Sure people know that I paint, but I never tell anyone what it truly means to me. I feel better now that I have.

At first the maid is taken back by my sudden openness, but that is soon replaced by an eager curiosity. "Is that so? Would you mind if I take a look, Young Miss?" she pleads, though she tries to hide the excitement from her voice.

I spin my gaze to her, barely retaining my laugh.

Her face is so childishly expectant that it's near impossible to resist her request.

"Of course, you can look all you want. I'll just be changing into my clothes for dinner." I voice, though it's fluttering with my concealed giggles.

"Thank you, Young Miss!" she nearly snaps in reply.

She must have been really excited.

I smile again, setting my still-wet paintbrush on the ledge of the easel, and gently stand up from the stool in front of today's painting.

My legs carry me toward my walk-in-closet, while my arms shift through the endless styles of clothes residing there, trying to find a proper outfit. "Am I late?" I ask.

She replies as I hear her footsteps walking toward my canvas. "No, you still have around fifteen minutes before the meal actually starts, Young Miss."

"Oh, that's good." I say for the sake of conversation.

Not wanting to be too picky about what I should wear, I decided on a bright sapphire blue button up cotton blouse (it sounds expensive, but it's really quite a simple looking thing), and a pair of dark navy blue jeans.

I cross my arms in front of my chest to remove my dirty paint-shirt, and then let my hands slide down to remove my shorts.

A moment of fear crosses my mind. "It isn't supposed to be a very formal dinner, is it? Like the meeting today was?"

"No. It's just dinner." she says absent mindedly.

I smile.

She forgot to say Young Miss.

I inspect myself to see if there's any paint visible.

Sure enough, there's a few splotches of it on my arms.

I sigh.

"And here I was so careful too." I say to myself.

I walk over toward my bed to find my paint-remover, the kind that works great on skin, though I'm only in my bra and underwear.

I pass the line of vision of the maid, but she either doesn't care or just doesn't notice my attire, as she never looks up from my painting.

Finding the small bottle I was looking for out of the twelve other bottles on top of the head board, I lather some on my hands, then proceed to apply the substance to my arms.

Not even a minute later the paint is no longer visible, man, I love that stuff!

I return the bottle to my headboard once again, and return back to the closet to get dressed.

The fabric of the shirt is cold against my skin, giving me a slight case of goose-bumps.

The jeans on the other hand, were room temperature, so I had no problems with them, besides the fact that the fabric of them was a little scratchy, but that's only to be expected since I haven't broken them in yet.

I sigh at the small amount of exercise, turning to return to the maid.

She's been staring at the canvas for a long time.

"Excuse me…" I say quietly, not wanting to startle her in her moment of intense concentration.

No response.

I work my way toward her side, trying to see what she was so focused on, at an awkward angle.

The canvas has been marked with countless streams of lines, some crossing, others going strait, while others are jagged and unpredictable.

I look at her face, as if that would help me figure out why she was so interested.

Her eyes were weaving back and forth through the different patterns, making sure not to miss a single spot. Her jaw was set firmly, though she was slightly biting her lip in concentration.

She's really starting to worry me.

"Something wrong?"

"Wha-" she jumps startled.

I let out a small giggle.

"Y-Young Miss!" she exclaims, trying to calm herself down with a comforting hand to her chest. "You startled me."

"I see that, forgive me?"

I jut my lip out childishly, tilting my head slightly to the side, while I move my shoulders forward to half heartedly cross my arms near my wrist.

My all-famous Puppy Pout.

Her eyes fill with my adorableness. "Of course, Young Miss, I was just amazed by your painting." she quickly informs.

"That's good." I say, returned to my normal self, "You were so focused that I thought you had lost consciousness or something."

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that…"

"Yes?" I inquire.

"Did you paint this stroke for stroke, or did you just let the paint drip?"

"The latter."

Her honey eyes stare at me, trying to see whether I'm telling the truth or not.

"If you don't believe me just look at the paths the paint took." I remind boredly, crossing my arms. "I don't have a brush small enough to make those paths, nor do I have one to make the hardened paint drops near the top and bottom of the canvas."

She returns her eyes toward the painting.

"That's what I thought too…but, it's just not possible!"

"Is something wrong?"

Seriously, it's just a painting, it's not like it's a detailed map to El Dorado.

"Can't you see it?" she asks desperately.

"See what?" I say from her shoulder.

"Here," she says directing me to where she was standing. "Look at it from here. There. You see it right?" she asks with even more desperation, begging me to tell her that she's not crazy.

So I look.

And I see.

From an angle you couldn't tell any kind of difference in the patterns of the paint droplets, but from directly in front…

"It's a flower."

She nods franticly, happy to see that I, too, realized what had happened.

The crisscrossing of the paths were everywhere, with random openings of white, but in the center of the canvas were larger openings, which, coincidentally, looked like I had purposely put them there to make a perfect replica of a pure white flower.

"It's not that strange. The paint merely went where it wanted to."

She gives me a strange look while I'm too busy inspecting how two pathways had run along side each other, only millimeters from each other, to form a stem, while others had run in a near circle, causing each individual petal on the flower.

"You have an amazing talent, Young Miss. It's almost supernatural."

"Go."

"What?" she yelps worriedly, thinking she had insulted me and that I was sending her away.

I correct myself for her.

"It's time for us to go. You know, dinner?"

"Ah! I almost forgot!" she cries in both relief and depression at forgetting her job.

She scurries toward the door, while I follow closely behind.

* * *

"Do you have any hobbies?" Fugaku asks suddenly, breaking the silence of the dinner table.

He's staring at me, cold eyes intensified by the small glow given off by the overhanging chandelier, demanding to know, while his voice was pleasant and businesslike.

"Painting." is all I tell him before I shove another forkful of some unpronounceable French cuisine into my mouth.

"I see."

Another moment of silence…

"She's quite good actually." the woman at the other end of the table informs suddenly, not liking the returned silence. "She's even had a few of her canvases sold to museums and private collectors around the world!"

That earns a look from Fugaku, as well as a shocked stare from Sasuke, and an unreadable gaze from Itachi.

I wish I was invisible…or was at least able to shrink…

I slouch back in the chair to get away from all the attention, poking my Sterling sliver fork at my barely-touched meal to move the strange food around my plate, making it look like I was eating more than I actually was.

Fugaku does something, the woman giggles.

He must have smiled.

It's sad actually. The woman does not realize that his smiles do not reach his eyes.

Oh well, if she doesn't realize it she can't get hurt.

I continue to push the food around my plate, fingers of my unoccupied hand drumming away on the gleaming Oakwood table.

As my irritation and humiliation increases, so does the speed of my finger tapping.

"Mai tells me that you've apprenticed under Lady Tsunade. Is that true?" Fugaku demands suddenly, masking his orders with his businesslike tone.

Another wave of silence, this one more intense than the last.

This time there isn't even the pleasure of forks screeching across plates.

I look up hesitantly.

Sasuke's mouth is hanging open out of shock, even Itachi's is slightly open.

I turn toward the woman. She's smiling proudly.

I drop my fork onto my plate, letting its clank echo throughout the silence.

The woman just _had_ to tell them that I had apprenticed under the most famous medic ever known.

I now have an aching wish that I would have been born as a chameleon.

Itachi and Sasuke still won't say anything, though Itachi had the decency to close his mouth. Sasuke still hadn't caught on.

"It's impolite to not answer a question, Sakura." the head Uchiha says seriously, a slight cruel coldness to his voice, though it's still hidden by his cleverly created tone.

I feel myself sweating under his intense gaze, grateful that I was able to shield my shudder.

I even catch a sympathetic glance from Sasuke. He must be just as wary of his father as I am right now.

"Yes." is all I manage to say in reply.

He places another bite of French food into his mouth as proof of his contentment.

He swallows, then sends me another serious gaze, one that chills me to the bone.

"Sakura, as of now you are living with us, but you are not an Uchiha." he starts seriously. "I will not adopt you until you have proven that you are able to represent the Uchiha family. I have already called and set up an appointment with Tsunade, there we will arrange your return as her apprentice."

"Wha-"

"You will be driven to and from school along with Sasuke and Itachi in our limousine. You are still a Haruno as of now, so in no way should you flaunt, or make public, the fact that you are living with us."

Who does this bastard think he is! Ordering me around! No fucking way will I abide to this! And no way in hell will I be going back to Tsuande!

My hands are clenching into themselves so tightly they've gone numb.

I bite my lip to conceal my hatred.

"Also, though you have had paintings sold to museums and private collectors, painting is not seen as a respectful job. You are to quit that pointless hobby and join some other activity. You could join Itachi on the Student Council or join the Debate Team, both of which are thought highly of in today's society. There is also the option of-"

I slam my clenched fists onto the table, making everyone jump.

"Don't fuck around!" I scream, standing up in fury.

"Darling!" the woman snaps in horror.

I ignore her and send my heated glare to an angry Fugaku.

"Return to Tsuande, quit painting, join the goddamn _Debate Team!_ Are you out of your fucking mind!? I'm not an Uchiha yet you get to order me around and control my life when no one even knows about it! That's the most idiotic bullshit I've ever heard!" I scream.

"Excuse me?" the man hisses, trying his best to control his boiling anger, which is apparent in his red face.

"Baby, apologize!" the woman cries out to me.

I unclench my hands and lay them flat on the table, breathing out a sigh to try and calm me.

"I'm sorry. How inconsiderate of me." I say with full sincerity. I send the red faced man a small smile to back it up. "You must not have understood what I just said. Let me sum it up. I refuse and you're an idiot."

With that I shove myself away from the table and storm toward the exit of the dining hall.

"Where are you going!?" the hysteric woman demands of me.

"I'm tired, I'm going to take my meds and go to bed. Duh." I say irritably.

She slumps back into her chair.

The last thing I hear is the aftermath of my performance. "Please don't think badly of her, she's just edgy because she forgot to take her medication. She's really not like this! I swear!"

"Sasuke, Itachi, it's late. Go to bed." Fugaku orders.

"Yes, Father." is their only reply.

* * *

Why?

I'm slumped against the cold wood of my door, securely inside my darkened bedroom.

I don't want to be owned. Why can't people just let me be myself!?

My knees bring themselves to my face, and I bury my head in them, trying to stop the tears threatening to come out of my eyes.

Just because of my name…

I squeeze my legs tighter until I can't stand the pain.

My shoulders start shaking and a warm sensation is rolling down my cheeks.

My pale hand cups the skin, then reveals itself in front of my face.

Water.

These are…tears…

I let my hand fall, and more water flows from my eyes.

And for the first time in two years…

…I cried.

* * *

I hate this! I hate this! I hate this! I hate this! I hate this!

All of it! I HATE IT!

I pick up a blank canvas and throw it off of its easel and anything else I can get my hands on.

Nothing matters right!? As long as I obey your goddamn orders everything is fine! You'll get what you want! But I'll hate it! I'll hate every single fucking minute of it! And I'll be sure to make your life a living hell! I SWEAR IT!

A magazine is lying on the floor, I pick it up and rip out all of its pages.

I'm in front of my new painting now.

That damned thing.

I'm not supposed to paint right?

Talent my ass! It's all just a goddamn hobby!

I HATE IT!

The can of dark red paint is still almost completely full.

I'll show them.

I pick it up and fling its contents at the dried painting with so much force that half of it comes back and drenches me.

Go wherever you damn well please! I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE!

With all my strength I throw the empty can across the room.

Why?

I'm not sad. SO WHY THE FUCK AM I CRYING! I DON'T GIVE A DAMNED SHIT WHAT THEY THINK! THEY COULD ALL DIE FOR ALL I CARE! A GROTESQUE BLOODY DEATH!

Suddenly all my anger has gone away, leaving me panting and tired, and still completely depressed.

I don't want to be here.

I can't stand this place anymore!

I look around frantically, looking for a way out.

There!

I run toward my freedom, open its gated doors, and leap from my cage.

I'm falling.

An excited feeling erupts in my stomach, and a massive jolt of adrenaline burst throughout my veins.

I land on the ground with a painful, yet manageable, dismount.

I look back toward my open bedroom window, located on the second floor.

Thank God that window was located in the front of the house!!

Seeing an empty dirt path, I pick myself off of the ground, force my legs to move, allow the adrenaline to completely overcome me, and I take off, running faster than I ever have before.

* * *

It's raining.

I'm cold.

How long have I been running?

Everything hurts…everything…

My running starts to slow and soon I'm barely walking.

Where am I?

I look around through tiredly glazed eyes at the unknown streets surrounding me.

Both sides of the street are lined with shops and restaurants and incredibly bright lights. Far off to the right is what I think is a …

I squint to make out the sign.

_Lucy's Hotel and Lodge_

This must be a…

…town

Strange…

…I thought the nearest town was fifteen minutes away by car…

I'm exhausted.

Dark is starting to take over my eyesight and everything feels cold.

I get the vague feeling that I'm falling, but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters anymore.

Something as cold as ice washes over my chest…what is it?

Searing pain engulfs my entire head.

It hurts…

A loud ringing replaces the pain, and I can no longer hear the sound of the rain. Everything is muffled, diluted…quiet.

Am I drowning?

My eyes slightly open, but I'm so tired I see no point in letting them see, for everything around me is a blur.

I know I should keep moving but my muscles no longer listen to me.

Prickles of cold no longer pinch my skin, instead I am completely…

…numb.

I am so…tired…I just want to…sleep…just for a while…

A little bit of sleep…won't…hurt…

"Are you alright?"

Who's… there?

"What's your name? Can you answer me?"

No…you…idiot…I'm too…tired…

"Dammit, she's all covered in blood… Where are you injured? Does it hurt anywhere?"

You're so…annoying…can't you see…I'm… sleeping…

An odd sensation occurs, and my arms and shoulders are entangled by a thick rope.

It's so…warm…

"Open your eyes." a gruff voice orders. I can barely hear it over the ringing.

No…I don't want to…I don't take…orders…

Something forcibly opens my eyes.

It…burns…

"Follow my finger."

What a…pointless…statement…

"Shit!" the voice says.

How…funny.

My eyes are clearing…but only a little…

…yet all I see is red…

…red and…

"Why the fuck does this always happen to me?" the voice growls.

…two pools of aqua.

How…strange…

For some reason...the word...love...

...just appeared...in my...head...

…now…

Just let me…

…sleep.

* * *

**GAH! FREAKING LONG CHAPTER! Yeah, I didn't mean to make it this long, but the whole maid scene lasted longer than what I expected it to be. SORRY!**

**Yeah, told you Gaara was in there, but he was jus little… PLEASE DON'T BE MAD AT ME!**


	5. Wounded

**Yeah, I know I need to update this faster, but I was a my grandma's, then I had business/laziness, and now I'm working a baby sitting job until next weekend, so I'll try to get more writing done then.**

**I'M SO BUSY I WANT TO DIE! Or at least drink Kool-Aid until I barf. Either one…**

**Thank you SO much PurpleWolfStar for helping me with ideas(I found a way to do it ) to figure out what to do during Gaara's shower scene. (Yes girls, a shower scene for Gaara, please, try to contain your excitement. I have strict rules against pictures, videos, massive hysteria of any kind, and stalker-ing Any breaking of the rules will be punishable by Desert Coffin, Sand Funeral/Burial, and a lifelong possession by Shukaku)**

**Quick warning, I don't want any confusion, so right off the bat I'm saying this is in Gaara's POV since everyone knows it was Gaara at the end of the last chapter, if you didn't know I'm sorry for spoiling it for you as well as depressed that I didn't do a good enough job to describe him. Also, the whole thing where Sakura keeps taking that medicine, that's going to be explained later, so it'll come naturally. But if there are those of you readers who just NEED TO KNOW! feel free to PM me, and I'll give you a spoiler as to why she does that.**

**In writing this chapter I have discovered something. I ABSOLUTELY HATE WRITING IN GAARA'S POINT OF VIEW! HE'S SO….DIFFICULT!** _smashes head against wall…multiple times_ **So, because it was so hard to write, this is probably the crappiest chapter I've written, so I'm really REALLY sorry about that.**

**Anyway…**

**HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT**

**(I tried to make this chapter longer to make up for all the missed time, sorry if it's too long)**

**I do not own Naruto, nor do I own Kool-aid (that is how you spell it, right?) nor the **_**Dove **_**soap, or Victoria's Secret, or Metallica, I mention in this chapter.**

**Temari is supposed to be like a medical person in this, but being a non medic like my self, if I don't follow the procedures like you're supposed to, it isn't my fault.**

**In case you missed that Big 'Ol paragraph up above…I summed half of it up with two words…**

* * *

_**Gaara's POV**_

My foot slams into the oak wood door, nearly tearing it off its hinges, sending the door itself swinging violently inside the house.

"Temari!"

"What!" screams the low keyed voice of my older sister, which she had to raise in order to be audible over the loud sounds coming from the TV.

I adjust the unconscious girl in my arms, she's a bit heavier than I had first thought, throwing her limp arm over my shoulder and risking a quick glance at her face.

Her eyes are closed gently, her face, partly covered by her long hair, relaxed and serene. If it weren't for all the blood I would have assumed she was sleeping.

A low growl makes its way up my chest.

"Temari get your ass over here!"

I take the chance of stepping deeper into the house, careful that the action doesn't cause the girl further harm, and catching the sight of my sister's multiple blonde ponytails over the edge of the black leathered couch, her face apparently glued to the glow of the flat-screen TV.

"No fucking way! Freddie and Jason are duking it out, and now way in hell am I going to miss the ending!"

That bitch! What the fuck kinda older sister would ignore a dying girl for a cheesy horror movie!

"If you don't get your ass over here in three seconds, God as my witness, I will shred your throat, rip out your heart, smash your skull in, bathe in your blood, and wallow in the joy of it all!"

Temari shifts to grab the remote off the seat next to her, quickly pressing the power button making the screen go black.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, but this better be worth it." she grumbles as she tiredly trudges through the mess of junk food she stockpiled, making her way lazily over to me.

"Help her!"

Her eyes widen, taking in the sight of the girl covered in blood, then sending a glare to me.

"Why the fuck didn't you say so sooner, you dumb-ass!?" she bellows, lunging over to me to possessively grab the bloody girl from my grasp. "Shit!" She bites her lip, turning her head to the side to aim her voice at the staircase. "Kankuro! Get your fucking ass down here this fucking goddamn minute!" She gently lays the girl down on the floor, then quickly checks her vital signs. Her face wrinkles up into one of deep concentration, as if deciding what she should do.

"Kankuro get your mother-fucking ass down here now or so help me I will rape you with a shovel!"

I smirk.

Temari was being very _imaginative_ in her threats today.

A cold wind slices through the opened doorframe, making a chill run down my spine, causing a light shiver out of me.

I look down at myself.

My arms and hands are smeared with blood beyond recognition, and my shirt is sticking to me from the saturated wetness of it all, though I can't tell how much red is in it, since the fabric is black.

Shoving my hands into my bloodied jean pockets in annoyance, I walk calmly past my sister, who was still frantically checking the girl, towards the direction of my bedroom.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going!?"

I turn slightly, a wave of anger swelling in my gut. "Taking a shower." I send her a glare worthy of my anger, completely ignoring her protests and complaints, and continue walking toward the stairway leading to the basement.

"For crying out loud! Kankuro! Get your fucking ass down here NOW!"

A faint sound of footsteps fills my ears, as my brother runs toward our sister.

I hear a muffled voice of "Whatever it is, I didn't do it!" coming with the thumping from the stairs as he makes his way down.

I turn a corner, my wet sneakers squeaking on the tile floor of the kitchen, trying to control their speed as the basement door appears in front of my eyes.

My hand grips its handle, the cold familiar metal sending jolts of cold through my skin, and opens the door to the pitch blackness of my room.

"Holy fuck! I did not do that!"

I feel myself smiling as Kankuro meets the present I brought home for him and Temari.

My body steps onto the first of the creaking wooden stairs, closing the door behind me.

* * *

I discarded my filthy shoes toward the top of the stairs, having carefully placed them side by side, right along the wall, in case I were to stumble over them later.

Without my shoes my pale feet are allowed to be swallowed by the thick carpet, its color making it seem as though it were bleeding, sinking in deeply toward the floor. I close my eyes, letting the peaceful sensation spread throughout my body.

I have never felt love.

I have never received love.

But I can't help but wonder, does love…does it feel like this…like the warmth coursing through my veins right now? Can this small little pleasure, my own little happiness, be close to that feeling so many people cherish.

I shift my weight from one side to another, only slightly, allowing the feeling of my feet moving under different pressures onto the carpet fill my senses.

My movements stop, and I open my eyes.

Why do I care what it feels like? Even if I were to wonder, it wouldn't change anything.

Even if I knew…I'd still be…

…an unloved monster.

I run my hand through my hair, most likely making it into a shaggy mess.

My eyes widen, and I quickly pull my hand back to examine it.

Smeared red.

Shit.

A growl like grunt escapes my throat as I drag myself over to my bathroom.

* * *

Damn, why the fuck did I have to get so involved with that chick? She's probably just going to die anyway.

I didn't have to get all dirty over a hopeless case; I should have just left her there!

My hands tug at the black shirt sticking to my skin, forcibly pulling it over my head, only to discard it in the corner as soon as I have.

I glance down to my bare torso shadowed by the dark (I never turn on the lights when I use the bathroom), a glare screaming at what it finds. My chest is smeared with red, my shoulders painted, and everything else seems to be slightly discolored.

Giving a small hiss, I walk over to the large onyx bathtub, pull out the drain (throwing it into the sink halfheartedly) turn on the water with the temperature meter at _HOT, _and watch as the water starts rushing out of the faucet. Tiring of standing, I sit down on the edge of the tub, feeling the coldness of its stone seeping through my black jeans.

The water spills out onto the floor of the bath, creeping along its length until it finally hits the wall. There it doubles back, causing small waves to ripple and distort its surface. I break its patterns with my pale hand, allowing it to reach out to touch it, only to stun the surface as first, but soon my fingers dip into the liquid, tracing artificial patterns on its breakable canvas. Each time I do, the waves I create wash over all the others, creating layers of liquefied crystal, each tremor glistening off of the tremor next to it.

Such a simple movement, but I find it beautiful, as well as fascinating.

Perhaps…I'm jealous.

A smirk spreads upon my lips.

Me, a monster that everyone is scared of, if jealous of water.

I guess you can't get much more pathetic than that.

The water is incredibly hot now, almost boiling to the touch, making me retreat my hand in self preservation, so again I stand, letting the cold tiles of the floor stun my feet, as I let my hands slide down to the button on my jeans, fumbling with it for only a moment, then the zipper, before finally shoving away the tough fabric, making it fall down my legs until it's trapped around my ankles.

I merely step out of the confinement.

That leaves me only in my dark blue boxers now, which come off of me more smoothly than me jeans, thus making me use less force than before.

The clothes are discarded to where I had thrown my shirt, creating a tattered heap that wrinkles each and every part of their fabrics. It's not like I care. If they're not completely smooth it's not like I can't wear them.

So I stand there, all of my pale skin exposed.

Cold air and hot water meet in the air, creating a small current of convection, which creates a small wisp of wind.

The freezing air current washes over me, cloaking me in a shiver, and leaving me with goosebumps.

Now would be a good time to go in the shower.

* * *

My hands scratch and claw at my scalp, trying to rip out all the blood hiding there, running the shampoo mercilessly through my hair, forcing the water the throw all of the dirtiness down my face, running into my eyes.

I slam my lids closed, trying to ignore the stinging.

The hot water beats down on my skin, pinching and poking, leaving a sore pain every time I'm hit.

It's a relaxing feeling, one I relish in.

The water around my feet is a dark pink, meaning the blood is being washed off.

I hiss.

This is going to be a pain to clean up afterwards.

I lift the weight of my head so it can be pelted by the falling water, the drops splashing against my face, clogging my mouth and nose, making me feel like I'm drowning.

I spit out the water from my mouth.

My hair swishes back and forth as I shake my head from side to side, all the excess water flying out of the way.

The soap dish contains a single, cinnamon red, bar of soap. I reach for it, holding it under the water so it become slippery.

I slide the lathered continence of the bar across my arms, making it leave a pinkish trail, either from the soap itself or from the blood, which one I don't know.

My nostrils fill with the slightly burning smell of cinnamon, mint, and some other scents I can't identify, though all together they leave a strong, fresh, pleasing, fragrance.

Desciding I've gotten all of the blood off of my arms, I hold them under the water, running my hands over the skin to wash away any residue.

The blood's coming off pretty easily, but I'll be pissed if I have to use the disinfectant…

The bar of soap is rinsed quickly under the shower, then it's sent to my leg, the smooth feeling of the bubbles sliding down my skin makes me want to drown in the stuff.

A certain splotch of blood is being difficult, so I have to scrub pretty hard at it, watching as it chips off.

I stop.

Blood doesn't chip off…not unless it's been dried…

But if it's not blood…

…what the fuck is it?

Even with the thundering of the shower my growl echoes off the walls of the bathroom, ringing in my ears like a hum.

My saturated skin is lathered from my face to my feet, while I claw at all the left over red spots with a new ferocity I've never felt before. My abs, my stomach, my chest, shoulders, back, everything.

I stop. My skin is turning pink from the irritation of being scrubbed too hard. Small speckles of red from where I've scrubbed the hardest; my own blood breaking the surface of skin.

I drop the bar of soap, watching as it plummets to the floor, where it continues to move by sliding down the small slope of the bath, stopping over the drain. I poke it with my toe, forcing it out of the way so that the water can find its way out.

It sways back and forth, unable to go completely in one direction because of the sloping walls of the bath, until it finally comes to a standstill in the dead center of the tub.

Finding nothing else to do, I adjust myself to be under the direct angle of the shower head, letting its intense pressure wash away anything still clinging desperately to my skin.

A few moments pass.

The steam rises up, blurring my vision into a smoky white.

That should be good enough.

My body leans forward, directing my hand to turn the water off, as well as pull on the gold plated chain so that the shower would stop.

The sudden chill from lack of hot water mixes with the boiling humidity in the room.

Black splotches appear before my eyes, my senses become entangled with each other, and soon my cheek and forehead are pressing against the ice cold temperature of the wall to keep me from passing out.

If I stay like this…for just a little bit.

Everything goes numb…

How much time has passed? It can't be too much time…

Slowly, my senses start returning to normal and the dizziness in my head goes away.

Fuck.

I hate it when that happens.

Pulling back the curtain of the shower, I manage to step out of the tub before another wave of wooziness entraps me.

My feet are stunned by the temperature difference between the wall in the shower and the floor here, making me jump slightly at the contact.

Relax.

Just dry off, get dressed, then go do something to calm yourself down.

Obeying my own orders, I reach for a large blue towel.

The fabric is soft, incredibly flexible in my hand. First I dry off my hair, since that's where most of the water is, before working my way down. My black takes some times, since my shoulder blades were being…uncooperative. My arms dry off nicely, and now my thighs are encased by the towel, working its way down my legs.

I wrap the damp towel around my waist, turning around to take a glance of the tub. A ring of red has formed around walls toward the bottom, and by the drain is a collection of the color. Oh well, I'll just clean it out later. With that, I head out the door of the bathroom.

I don't know why I even bother putting the towel around my waist. No one comes down here except me, and if they did, I would probably kill them as soon as they came down, much less seen me.

I wade through the thick carpet to my dresser. Once there I pull out the middle drawer, letting my eyes soak up my options.

Dark navy blue jeans, black trip pants with a multitude of chains, black sweatpants…

I pick the sweatpants.

Rummaging through the bottom drawer, I pick out a pair of dark red boxers.

I let the towel drop around my ankles, step into the new boxers, pulling them up until they're snugly on my hips. The sweatpants are given the same treatment, though I viciously tie the string to keep them in place…

I jog toward the stairs again, grabbing my large hooded sweatshirt off of my bench press as I pass, hurriedly pulling it over my shoulders and shoving my arms through.

By the time I get through the door to upstairs I just have to pull down the end of it, hiding my stomach in its fabric.

My bare feet hit the wooded floor, making their way to the large refrigerator.

The door swings open, and the inside light blares at me, as if in self defense, while I rob it of its small carton of milk. I open the container, and bring its edge to my lips (I never bother getting a glass since no one else drinks two percent in my family) A small stream of white escapes the side of my mouth.

I remove the container from my lips, gasping slightly, letting my fisted hand wipe the stream off of my jaw.

The carton is returned to the fridge; the door closing loudly as I slam it shut.

* * *

_**Meanwhile…**_

"I think that's almost all of it…" Temari sighs in relief, wiping a bit of sweat on her forehead away with her soapy hand, replacing the sweat with white bubbles.

Her hands splash into the water again as she takes the peach colored _Dove_ soap to scrub at the last bit of red from the girl's arm.

"Hope her hair doesn't stay stained…" she says with sympathy, taking a good look at the girl's pink hair.

She'd been scrubbing at the odd color for over half an hour now, but it wasn't even fading, not in the slightest.

What bothered Temari the most was the fact that the girl seemed to be in a daze. Her eyes were staring at the bloody water, though she wasn't noticing it. It was more like she was in a trance, her eyes open, but unable to comprehend anything.

After finding no huge gashes or cuts on the unconscious girl's body, Temari, being the medic she was, decided to clean the girl off to better find any damages to her form. Nothing too serious was found, so the only explanation for the girl's behavior was that she was in shock.

Having carried her to the upstairs bathroom, with the help of her younger brother Kankuro, she had managed to submerge the now naked, yet unconscious, girl into the bathtub. This had happened, of course, after her brother had been brutally shoved out of the bathroom, being the pervert he was.

The moment the girl's body came into contact with the warm temperature of the waters, she had regained consciousness…though she was still unresponsive.

So far, almost all the red had come off, except a small trickle of red that had returned on the side of the girl's head. This meant that she had a slight head injury. Under further investigation (in other words the parting and probing of the girls head) the medic had decided that though the girl had a head injury, it was not serious, but she would keep her under observation for a while longer, in case she were to have a small concussion, possibly part of the reason she was in shock.

Temari sighed.

The water in the tub had turned completely red, hiding the girl's naked body, which (knowing how Kankuro liked to peep) was a good thing.

It would be a pain to clean out the tub. She smiled evilly. She would just make her little brother, the one who took too long to get down the goddamn stairs, to clean it out for her.

Finally, the job of removing the blood from the girl was done…though the blood was odd.

It seemed thicker…and weighed more, sinking to the bottom of the water in the tub.

The confused blonde, knowing she was going to regret it later, did something she, under the circumstances of a medic, shouldn't do.

The remaining 'blood', or whatever it was that was on her soapy fingers, was brought to her lips, where she proceeded to lick the odd liquid.

She cringed, half from the soap and half from…

"This…tastes like paint…" the bewildered Temari gasps.

Paint.

That would explain the odd substance's characteristics.

That would also explain the lack of wounds to make all the blood.

Having finished with her job, both of cleaning the girl and finding out where she was hurt, the medic leaned forward to pull the lever to drain the tub, only to start the shower to wash off any leftover paint residue remaining on the strange girl.

After turning off the shower, Temari helped the girl to get out of the tub. Thankfully the girl wasn't completely oblivious to what was going on, for she braced herself against Temari as she stood up, and carefully stepped out of the tub by herself, though the far away dead look was still in her eyes.

Toweling the girl dry, the eldest sibling in the household helped the girl into a large black T-shirt, so big that it went all the way down to her hips-a little above where her fingertips reached. She was also kind enough to loan the girl underwear, one which was newly bought and never used before.

A sad look filled Temari's eyes. She had just bought the underwear, as well as a couple bras, from Victoria's Secret, and they weren't cheap…

Getting over her sadness, Temari helped the girl down the hallway, leading her to one of the many guest bedrooms that filled the house.

* * *

_**Gaara's POV**_

"Gaara!" my sister yells at me from somewhere down the hallway around the corner. "Come here please!"

I stand up from my chair, my legs somewhat stiff from sitting down for so long, and start walking to where my sister's voice had come from.

"What?" I ask boredly, my arms crossed as I stand in the doorway to the guest room. My sister was rummaging around in the closet, pulling out a pair of black sweatpants, like my own except with a blue string, and throws them onto the clothes rack by the door.

"I have to go open the clinic now, can you stay here and watch her?" she pleads, her eyes as begging as her voice.

"Why don't you ask Kankuro, I'm busy." I growl, looking to the hall where I came from, in irritation.

You can't really call it a lie.

I could make myself busy.

It still counts.

Temari sighs in annoyance.

"Use your head Gaara! You want me to leave Kankuro alone with an unconscious girl with the door shut!?"

Her face is all red now, whether from anger or embarrassment I don't know. Probably both.

I let myself lean into the room more, allowing my gaze to turn around the wall's corner where the bed was found.

The girl I brought home was tucked in securely, she herself fast asleep.

I return to my original position and send Temari a glare.

"No."

With that I start to walk down the hallway again.

She runs out after me, catching herself on the doorframe. "I'll give you my Metallica CD!"

I stop.

Damn this woman, she really knows how to manipulate me.

I turn back slightly, allowing her to see the dead serious look on my face.

"It better not have any scratches."

She smiles, resisting the urge to run and hug me. (With the intelligence to figure out that I would break her neck if she did)

"I left the scissors on the desk by the bed in case you have to change the bandage! Thank you, Gaara, I owe you one!"

* * *

I've been sitting in the same chair, doing absolutely nothing for the past twenty minutes.

The girl hasn't done anything at all except for the occasional turning of her head or the occasional slight moans of pain she makes when she bumps the bandaged spot on her head from moving.

I've been watching her this whole time.

I don't know why exactly, I'm sure I could find something else just as entertaining to look at if I tried.

But…there's just something…

Her chest falls and rises steadily with each of her peaceful breaths.

It's almost entrancing.

I wonder if she's dreaming…

The continuous rising, falling, rising, falling of her chest makes me almost want to touch her, just to make sure she's not in a coma.

I glance at the clock on the wall.

It's been thirty minutes.

I better see if the bandage needs to be changed.

I stand, walking over to her sleeping form, reaching out my hand to touch her face.

Her skin is warm with a smooth softness that I've never seen before. Her eyelids flutter gently as I delicately tilt her head to the side, brushing away her long stained tresses.

Looks like Temari couldn't get all of it out of her hair…

I take a look at the bandage. The blood hasn't leaked through yet. It should last another twenty minutes.

No need to change it now.

I return her head to its original position.

I'm about to turn away when her eyelids start to move. They scrunch up slightly, then relax, the scrunch up again. I lean in closer, trying to see if she's having a symptom of some kind or just a strange case of REM sleep.

Her eyelids part revealing a pair of stunningly green pupils, only inches from my own.

I jump backward, surprised by the intensity of her eyes, as well as her awakening, and stumble, tripping in my own clumsiness and falling to the floor with a _thud! _landing hard on my butt as well as my elbows.

Deep breaths fill my lungs as the surprised fluttering of my heart starts to calm down.

She stares at the ceiling for a while; blinking slowly, as if trying to focus.

Her body sits up, the blankets falling down her torso as she does, an incredibly tired look painting her expression.

A pale hand makes its way up to her face, gently rubbing at her eyes, trying to clear them from tiredness.

Movement beneath the blankets reveals a pair of muscular legs as she steps onto the cold floor, standing up for the first time in the past couple hours. Now more focused on what's happening around her, she becomes worried.

I take this time to stand up myself.

Her face fills with fear and surprise, a strange version of being startled, as she sees me. Her body stiffening, getting ready for an attack, bringing her fisted hand for a to-be punch, but as she does, she realizes that she's not wearing her normal clothes.

We both look at her attire.

A large black T-shirt, barely covering her thighs, and showing a small portion of her lacy underwear fills both of our visions.

She looks at her clothes, then at me, then at her clothe again, before sending me a glare.

I smirk.

She would have had a very powerful glare if it wasn't for her incredibly dark blush.

I guess it's about time for me to explain everything now.

I take a step forward.

Her eyes fill with a moment of fear, before glazing over with a new emotion.

I recognize that emotion…

It's the survival instinct.

I take a small step forward again.

She springs diagonally behind her, landing right in front of the desk.

Shit… Stepping forward probably wasn't the best thing to do…

"I don't want to hurt you." I say to useless ears.

Her hand starts rummaging behind her, looking for something for self defense.

I send her a heated glare to punish her lack of cooperation.

She cringes slightly, her eyes filling with fear again, only now they flash with the previous instinct as well as of hatred.

A wince of pain makes its way across her face, her free hand reaching up to the side of her head, while her other hand continues to look for a weapon.

I growl, making myself look incredibly serious. "You hit your head on the curb of the street. Let me look at it."

I walk forward to her, my hand reaching up slowly.

Her hand clasps something, a snarl rips out of her throat, and she charges at me, bringing her hand around to…

I hiss.

The scissors.

Shit! I forgot about them!

I step backwards just as she brings the blades to stab my stomach, she falls forward slightly, so I take the opportunity to grab a hold of her wrists before she tries to kill me again, swinging her body around so her back is pressed against my chest.

I hiss in her ear. "You shouldn't play with scissors little girl." I tighten my grip around her wrists, to try and stop her continuous struggling, until she winces from the pain-forcing her fingers to let go of the scissors. It drops to the floor with a clang.

She starts growling, throwing her head backwards to try and slam it into my jaw. Her body twists and turns more ferociously now, making it even harder to hold onto her.

Somehow I manage to find an opening to wrap one of my arms around her chest and shoulders, containing a huge amount of her struggling.

She stops moving for a moment, taking in the position of my arm.

The only way to safely encase her shoulders without choking her was for me to wrap my arm around her chest, which also contains her breasts.

I growl again.

This is just not my day.

It's not like I'm purposely trying to touch her breasts.

I better say something before she starts getting riled up again. "Are you going to behave now?" I tighten the grip of my arm to show her how serious I am.

She hisses like a cat before bucking backward and forward trying to throw me off of her again, then whips her head down and sinks her teeth deep into my arm.

Mother fucker!

The moment of pain stuns my arm enough so that she's able to wriggle her way out of my restraining grasp.

I look at my arm.

That bitch made me bleed!

Her teeth left a clear indentation, which has allowed my blood to bubble up and seep out in a small stream.

I gasp in pain, holding my hand tightly to try and stop the bleeding.

Blood seeps through my fingers, dripping onto the floor in a steady _tap, tap, tap_.

She works her way around me, walking backwards toward the door, never once letting her gaze break away from my own.

At the very last moment she spins and charges the last two meters toward the door, miraculously grabbing the pair of sweatpants hanging on the rack next to it.

"Wait!" I snarl.

Damn this girl, she doesn't even use her head.

I bolt out the door after her.

She's hobbling down the hallway, trying to pull the sweatpants on as fast as she can without having to stop.

Ahead of her Kankuro is turning around the corner.

"Kankuro! Stop her!" I demand of him, the girl is pulling the pants past her hips now, trying to tie the string in a full run.

Kankuro's face turns into one of surprise.

"Stop her! Now!" I bellow, trying to run faster.

She's going to pass him unless he does something!

He turns his face into one of determination as the girl sprints insanely fast toward him "Got it! I'll just grab her when-"

The pink haired girl leaps into the air, swings her leg around in a prefected slicing movement, and slams it into Kakuro's back before he can even blink.

My brother is sent flying, smashing into the wall.

"Kankuro!" I yell, slightly in anger that he let her get away, as well as worried that he broke that wall.

"I'm fine…" he gasps, his body in a heap on the floor.

I hold back the urge to inform him that I don't care, but now isn't the time for that. I have to run faster or I won't get to her in time!

I make it to the corner and turn as fast as I can, still hoping to catch her, only to see the outside door in the kitchen slamming shut.

I let my body stop running, the girl already long gone in the outside town.

I hear the sounds of my injured brother limping up beside me.

"What's with that babe?" he winces, his hand steadying his pain filled back.

My own hand clutches the bite mark on my arm, one last drop of blood falling to the floor.

**So, did you like it? Yeah, sorry if there are a lot of Kankurou fans out there, but I can only write him as a pervert. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM! DO YOU SEE HOW HARD IT IS TO RESIST DOING THAT! laughing**

**Oh well, tell me what ya think, should the chapters be longer, or should I make them shorter? I think I already asked this, but just in case these chapters take too long to read I'll ask again.**

**HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!**


	6. Finding God

**Hehe, **_**smirks evilly**_** Guess who's going to school!**

**Readers: **_**points to authoress**_

**Me: **_**gasps **_**NEVER! I WON'T STEP FOOT IN THAT PLACE UNTIL FALL!**

**Readers: **_**confused**_

**Me: **_**falls to the floor**_** Never mind, just read.**

**Ah, the power of wikipedia, I found out what it is that a Homeroom teacher does. Did you know Homeroom is like Advisory?**_** chirp chirp chirp**_** Well I didn't!**

**Nyanonymous, I thank you very much for your comment,**_**(don't worry, you didn't**__**do anything wrong, I'm just explaining a bit while the subject is up)**_** but I'm afraid I can't put the whole thing in 3****rd**** person. **_**(that is the he/she/it, right?)**_** Reason 1, I absolutely SUCK when I try to write like that, though I put small chunks of it in the chapters to even it out and make it less confusing, Reason 2, if I do that I can't get the feeling I want, for say…explaining how they see things and how they think. I have been trying to better my skills with 3****rd**** person by writing It's Called Freedom and Colored World, but those still have major rough edges. But I will try harder, and I ABSOLUTELY thank you for pointing that paragraph thing out to me! IT HELPS ME SOOO MUCH! **_**hugs**_

**To every reader: I have also been trying to make my paragraphs longer, but I don't usually make long paragraphs, so when I use Microsoft Word, since the pages are smaller, the paragraphs look a lot longer. Then when I transfer it to Fanfiction I end up with a paragraph that's only three or four lines long when it was really six to eight on MSW. I will try to clump together some of the more fragmented sentences to make longer paragraphs, but it's something that might take some time for me to learn. Sorry for the inconvenience.**

**WARNING:**** This chapter is a little less serious, but that's because I'm trying to get the personalities of the "perverts", hope it doesn't bother you guys too much, and in the last chapter I lied. THIS will be my crappiest chapter since I'm trying 3****rd**** person for a longer time. I was going to do this anyway after I wrote Sakura's POV, but I'm making the 3****rd**** person longer because it's hard to stop writing when I haven't explained everything that way. So if the last 2/3 of this chapter absolutely sucks, it's not my fault, I tried.**

**Kankurous was held back in school, why? Cuz I wanted him in the same grade as Sakura and the rest. Also, Gaara was just born late in this story, either that or started kindergarten a year later than everyone. That explains the age differences, okay?**

**HOPE YOU ENJOY!**

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

Shit!

I am totally lost!

I glance around the multicolored tiled hallways looking for someone, anyone, to send me in the right direction. It's all very confusing, whether there are people in the hallways or not, since the colors are randomly placed on the floor, a red here a yellow there, a black or two next to each other, and a single gray square placed in the center of a white rectangle, each one of the illogical patterns making my head spin.

I hope there's no OCD people in this school or this would be a very difficult hallway to travel on…

Just for good measure, I do a complete 360 to check for an adult, or maybe even a student, wandering the hallways.

No one.

Of course there's no one in the hallway! It's class time!

Damn that stupid principal and that counselor! Making me stay a full three hours in that cramped little room just to help plan out when to take my medication! It's ridiculous!

Ah man! I am so screwed!

I fight back the tears welling in my eyes.

Just great! When I'm frustrated I make irrational decisions, when I make irrational decisions I get angry, and when I get angry I cry! No fucking way am I going to cry in school! Maybe I should just skip…

I glance at the silver watch on my wrist, **10:03**. When was it class ended again?

My hands unclasp the shining gold hook of the leather book-bag bouncing at my hip, scrounging through its contents before they emerge with a single sheet of paper.

Thank God they have the times on there!

_**Haruno, Sakura Freshman Locker # 416 ID # 66365 Locker Combo. 32-15-08 Counselor Genma Shiranui**_

**Period 1**, Homeroom **Teacher:** Hatake **Room:** 401 **Days:** A,B,C,D,E,F **Starts:** 8:00 **Ends:** 8:45

**Period 2, **Calculus **Teacher: **Mitarashi **Room: **404 **Days: **A,B,C,D,E,F **Starts: **8:52 **Ends: **9:50

**Period 3, **Sci/Phys **Teacher: **Orochimaru **Room: **403 **Days: **A,B,C,D,E,F **Starts:** 9:54** Ends:** 10:39

**Period 4, **English **Teacher: **Hatake **Room: **401 **Days: **A,B,C,D,E,F **Starts:** 10:43 **Ends:** 11:28

**Period 5, **Lunch **Teacher: **-- **Room: **608 **Days: **A.B,C,D,E,F **Starts:** 11:32 **Ends:** 12:17

**Period 6, **PhyEd **Teacher:** Maito **Room: **212 **Days: **A,C,E **Starts:** 12:21 **Ends:** 1:06

**Period 7, **Health **Teacher: **Momochi **Room: **402** Days: **A,B,C,D,E,F **Starts:** 1:10 **Ends:** 1:57

**Period 8, **History **Teacher: **Morino **Room: **405 **Days: **A,B,C,D,E,F **Starts: **2:01** Ends:** 2:46

**Period 9, **Art **Teacher: **Ebisu **Room: **610 **Days: **B,D,F **Starts:** 2:50 **Ends: **3:35

If I'm supposed to be in English right now, and it ends at 11:28, and it's 10:03 at the moment…that leaves me…25 minutes of class time! Goddammit! I'll never make it!

My feet speed walk down the echoing halls, almost at what some would call a jog.

I really need to find someone…if not I'm going to get detention, and then I'll have to face that man again!

Just the thought of Fugaku's disapproving sneer makes me cringe.

I really hate that man.

I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him! I hate h-

"Ooph!"

Pain.

I seem to have smacked into a wall.

My eyes slowly open, filling with a brilliant bright light.

"Are you alright? I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there! Are you hurt?" an incredibly kind voice asks with concern.

"Is that you God?"

Great, I died. How could my day possibly get any worse!?

At least God was paying attention in my time of need, since he was able to find me in my pathetic lonesome. I am sorry I never believed in you God! I have truly seen the light…though it's a little too late now that I'm dead…

"No." the feeling of someone's small hand griping gently around my arm brings me to my complete senses. "I am not God."

My emerald eyes meet with the chocolate brown pupils of the most stunning person I have ever seen. His voice is as pleasant as the expression on his face, and his hair is long and silky and the same color as his stunning eyes. I find his smile alone more beautiful than the entirety of the Uchiha brothers put together!

"Wow… you're really…pretty." I breath, completely stunned by the overwhelming purity of the boy crouching down in front of me.

He lets out a small laugh, a childishly innocent sound.

"Why thank you. My name is Haku. What's your name?" He adjusts the cream colored folder under his arm.

I fidget slightly, only to realize I'm on the floor.

Huh?

I must have fallen… but then the wall had to have been…

I spring up, dusting off my hands and my butt, which I had fallen on, bowing to him slightly to signify my apology.

He rises too, taking a smooth swipe at the black pants of his uniform.

"Sorry, this was my bad! I wasn't watching where I was going! I am very sorry to have bumped into you." I stand up strait again, making sure his face wasn't changing into one of anger or annoyance.

It wasn't.

"I'm Sakura Haruno, I'm new here."

He smiles, making all my worries melt away. "Nice to meet you." his head tilts to the side adorably. "I'm sorry, but I have to return to my classroom to give my teacher a file, maybe we'll meet later!" His voice is completely sincere, as if he really wants to meet me again.

Ah, so he has to go to a class…that's too bad…

"AH!"

He jumps slightly at my outburst, a startled look on his doll-like face.

"Where's the English room for freshman Class A?" I ask almost forcefully.

How could I have forgotten!? That was so important no less than a minute ago!

"English room Class A?" he smiles sweetly at me. "Well I can take you there, since that's where I'm headed anyway."

Thank you God! You have sent me an angel! Never thought they were that _adorable _though…

"Thank you. Sorry to be a burden..." I bow slightly again, since I really am sorry about being a hindrance to him.

"It's no big deal."

* * *

I adjust the strap of my book-bag on my shoulder, following him as he walks down the wall, the opposite direction I was walking in.

A sudden wave of curiosity washes over me. "Hey, Haku, question. What's Mr. Hatake like?"

He looks at me while walking, a weary smile on his face.

"He's nice, and a well respected teacher in this school because of his educational history. He's a little…strange though…"

"Strange?"

He nods.

"Yes, he is always late for class, usually coming when it's half over, and when he teaches things it's put simply and only takes a few minutes to figure out." His smile is becoming a grin. "Yet for some reason, no matter how hard they are, everyone in the class always passes the English placement exams, even though we never really work hard. Not to mention the fact he doesn't assign homework.

"You mean no homework…_ever!_"

He nods again.

"We do have a big project, but it's due at the end of the year, and they give us enough time in school to finish it without having to take it home, and Mr. Hatake gave us the full period three days a week to work solely on the project.

I am going to love this teacher!

"Anything else?" I inquire eagerly, a small child on Christmas morning.

He thinks for a moment, looking ahead as he talks.

"He used to be a gymnastic coach…a really good one, I've heard. Teaching top of the class gymnasts and everything… I heard he even got most of them to win gold in the Olympics…"

I speed walk to make my way to his side.

"Really? What happened?" I ask, my face nearly on his shoulder.

He shakes his head.

"No one knows. One day he just turned in his retirement form, and that was the end of it."

"How sad…"

"Have you ever taken gymnastics?"

I sigh.

"A couple years ago, I was pretty into it too. I won a couple medals and competitions…but that's all in the past.

Haku turns to me again, a bright smile on his face, probably trying to change the mood of the conversation.

"I have another question for you, Sakura."

Really? What could he possibly have to ask me now? I'm not _that_ interesting.

"What?"

"You're hair is really pretty! It's natural right?"

I stop.

"How can you tell? Everyone else just thinks I dyed it."

He gives me a quizzical look. "Really? It's quite easy to tell it's natural. It's the same color all the way to your roots, and it's such a beautiful hue too, like a sakura flower… Is that where you get your name from?"

I can't help but laugh now.

"No, but that's why it's so funny! My mom named me Sakura before I even _had_ hair. Must've been quite the shock for her when it started growing…" I signify growing by running my hand through my waist length hair.

We're both laughing now, mine a louder laugh since I have the bigger understanding of the joke, his a small melodious sound from finding the humor in my memory.

He stops laughing in order to speak. "Ah, we're here already."

I stop, looking around.

Here, as Haku had stated, was a large…_box…_carved out of the wall. A table was placed in the middle of the empty space, able to sit ten people in its circular pattern, with doors (identical to each one beside it) scattered here and there and accompanied by small windows by the doorframe, though most were covered with posters or stickers, or other little things the human eye can't see through. Those were probably for security reasons, most likely for stopping those stalker people you hear so much about on the news: the strange unknown people entering school and kidnapping students as well as those bringing a gun or a knife into the classrooms. People like that.

Haku starts walking toward the English room, I soon following, only to realize that my shoelace has become untied.

"Sorry, Haku, you go ahead, I just have to tie my shoe. I know where it is now, so thank you!"

He nods his head, smiles at me one last time, then opens the door with his free, non folder carrying hand, and disappears into the strange classroom.

I growl.

Why do my shoes always come untied anyway? I know it happens to me more often than other people with the same kind of shoes as me.

Crouching down, I grab hold of the two ends of the long black leathered laces and begin to retie them.

My shoes are a little…strange, I guess. They're black with a half inch heel. The soft leather of the shoe reachs all the way up to my knees, while the rings for the laces to go through run along my shin in the front, making the laces go into an odd formational pattern that not many people know how to create. I always tie the bow at the top since it's easier than down by my feet, but the laces are long enough to reach all the way to the floor when they come untied, so I always have to either double knot them or tuck them inside the shoe itself. I side with the latter since they'd already come undone.

I stand up again, smoothing out the hideous skirt of my uniform.

That's the one thing I absolutely abhor about this school! I'd rather wear my own clothes, meaning I'd rather wear pants, than a skirt! The white blouse is well made though, so I can't argue against that, even if it's so tight on that I had to unclasp the first couple of buttons showing a portion of my cleavage…but it's not that big of a deal.

I hope the teachers don't scold me about it…

* * *

_**Meanwhile in the English classroom…**_

"Alrighty class," the teacher at the head of the room announces, sitting himself down in the swivel chair by his desk. "The next twenty minutes can be used freely. This includes using the time to work on your partnered project. You can move the desks as long as you put them back by the bell."

A few cheers erupt from the class, but not nearly as many as there had been in the beginning of the year now that the students have become used to how Kakashi worked.

Now that they were free to talk, the students busily started chatting away.

-

"Guys! You'll never guess what happened to me this weekend!" a blue eyed boy yells rather loudly, gripping his hands on the back of his freshly doodled on desk, standing up to pull his seat into the circle of his friends along with their own desks.

"What is it, Naruto?" the boy sitting across from him dares to ask, before taking a deep breath for a long yawn, making his rather long canine teeth visible for people to see.

This boy was quite odd, like all of the people sitting in their circle, for he was wearing a gray parka even though the temperature outside was enough to make a person in a T-shirt and shorts sweat the moment they stepped into the sun. To add to the strangeness of the boy was the fact that he had red markings on his face, two upside down triangles (one beneath each of his eyes extending toward his jaw-line) that both his mother and older sister had as well.

A rather suspicious snicker came out of the excited blonde's grinning mouth.

He runs his hand through his incredibly golden locks, trying (in vein) to build suspense amongst his friends, while clearing his throat dramatically to start his long, rehearsed, speech.

"I, Naruto Uzumaki, last Friday night, the day before the day before yesterday, three days ago-"

"Just say it already, moron!" the brunette girl sitting beside him demands, enforcing the demand with a hard knock to said moron's head.

Cringing in pain from the sudden attack, the blonde winces out the words. "This guy came to my house asking to use my shower, after declining the Uchiha bastard's…"

The brunette gives a small sigh of disappointment. "Is that all, really? I was expecting something more exciting." She leans her form back against the seat of her chair, swinging her legs atop the desk itself with one clean well practiced swoop.

"That's not all!"

Everyone in the circle suddenly looks to the extremely happy blonde.

"When he got out of the shower_ he_ was a _her_ and _she _thanked me!"

Silence.

Two tanned hands slam onto the owner's desk, shoving the person into a standing position. "Was she hot!? What did she look like!? What were her measurements!? Did the water make her clothes see-through!?" The shaggy haired teenager demanded. "Did you get a picture!? How about her panties!? You got to keep her panties right!?"

The teacher lifts an eyebrow at the conversation, but says nothing, returning to his orange book.

Naruto brightens with a new kind of glow at the fact that someone understands the importance of what had happened. "Ah, Kankurou! You do understand!" After all this time the blonde finally decides to sit down, looking intently at the middle child of the sand siblings. "Yeah, she was REALLY hot!" he cups his hands away from his chest to signify breasts. "She was all boing-boing! And then she turned she was all BA-BAM!"

"Enough!" screams the brunette, as well as the oldest of the sand sibs, both of them slamming their fists-of-fury onto their companions heads, trying to forcibly make him respect women.

A few muffled laughs and smirks make their way out of the rest of the people sitting in the circle, (though Gaara, youngest of the sand sibs, completely ignored them) as well as a couple of sighs representing their feeling for the boys' immaturity, which they haven't seemed to grow out of. In fact, it seems to have gotten worse as soon as they hit puberty!

"Anyway," Naruto continues, more calmly this time, taking a deep sigh as his hyperness starts to subside. "I didn't get to keep her panties, she took them with her."

The perverted sand sibling sinks in his chair a little, a depressed look on his face, a small tisking and the word "Pity." making its way out of his lips.

"So, how'd she thank you?" the parka wearing boy asks boredly, his head being propped up by his hand lazily to keep it from falling.

Golden Boy freezes for a moment, surprised at the question. Moments later his eyes shine with an I've-got-something-you-don't-have look, which could also be interpreted as a Prepare-to-be-jealous look, which was soon drown out with a perverted laugh.

"She was all _'How ever can I repay you!?'_" he starts, trying his best to sound like a beautiful girl, "and I was all _'No, need to thank me, pretty lady,'_ and she was all _'At least_ _let me give you a kiss!'_ and then she leaned in and placed her soft luscious lips on my…"

"Yes?" Kankurou demands, breaking the wooden pencil in his hand in half from the suspense of it all.

"On my…cheek. Right here." The blonde sighs romantically, pointing to the spot where he was 'kissed'.

The brunette next to him gives him a doubtful look. "You're lying." she accuses, completely ignoring the hurt expression her friend gives her at the accusation.

"What? Really? And here I thought Naruto was actually lucky enough to see a hot babe all alone in his house." Kankurou growls, shoving the longer end of the broken pencil into his mouth to hide his depression.

"I wasn't lying about the girl!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"I swear I wasn't lying!"

"That's enough, Naruto."

"But I swear!"

The door to the classroom opens, momentarily stopping all conversation in the room. The one who walks in was the class representative, Haku, who was merely returning from an errand for their teacher. "I've returned with the file, Mr. Hatake," he says sweetly, walking up to the lazy teacher and placing the folder on the desk right in front of him. "I have also met the new student. She will be in shortly."

"What's going on?" Kankurou questions, snapping out of his depression at the mention of a girl. He, as well as the other people from their collection of desks, turn their gazes to their teacher, trying to understand what Haku had said, as said class representative makes his way back to his seat and sits down quietly.

Mr. Hatake slides his feet off his desk and onto the floor, grunting as he stands up to introduce the new student.

"Well class," he starts saying to the expectant students. "I actually forgot about this since she didn't come until now, so sorry about that… Um…" He shoves a pile of papers off of the attendance clipboard, then grabs it to start flipping through its contents to find the new girl's name. "Oh yes, the new student is Sakura Haruno."

A look of shock passes over the teachers masked face, completely freezing him for a moment before he quickly scans the name on the sheet again. "S-Sakura Haruno."

The door opens a second time revealing an odd looking girl as she walks bordely into the classroom. "I'm sorry for being so late, the meeting ran late and they left me to find the classroom on my own." she directs to the teacher, staring him strait in the face to prove the sincerity of her story.

She freezes, looking as if she just saw someone get hit by a car.

They stay like this, the teacher and student locked in a loss for words.

Finally, their teacher manages to find his voice.

"Chickie?" he gaps out, his voice cracking as he speaks, still not quite believing who it was in front of him.

A small, forced, halfhearted smile makes its way across her lips. She turns her head away as she answers, not wanting to look him directly in the eyes.

"It's been a while…Coach."

* * *

Kakashi clears his throat to grab the stunned attention of the class.

"Everyone, this is our new student." he says again, directing his hand toward her figure as if nothing had happened between them.

"Yo, the name's Sakura Haruno." she says with an expressionless face, flashing the peace sign as if to prove her hip-ness.

"So," Kakashi speaks again, "Any questions?"

The teens observe the strangeness of the new student. For one thing, she hadn't tucked her white blouse, which didn't have the top four buttons clasped-which showed off just how blessed she was in the breast area, into the green and blue skirt of her uniform, the dress code clearly demanding that students should do so. It wasn't too much of a biggy for the group that had been discussing the Shower Girl, for no one at their circle, except for the highly respected Hyuugas and Shino, followed this rule (though Kankurou tried to be a rebel on both sides and only tucked in half of his shirt, letting one of the front flaps hang out triumphantly) Another reason she was so strange was her hair color.

Pink.

Bubblegum pink…

…or else the color of a sakura flower…exactly like her name.

She had dyed her hair, the biggest no-no in all of the school rules. Students are absolutely, ABSOLUTELY! prohibited from dying their hair. It would give them the look of delinquents, which was bad for the school's reputation.

The parka wearing boy gave a slow whistle. "Damn, I'm surprised the teachers haven't pounced on her yet."

No one notices the slight eye widening of the two sand siblings.

A boy toward the back of the room raises his hand.

"Yes, Idate?" Kakashi calls on the star runner of the track team.

The brown haired teen raises his voice to make it audible to everyone.

"It's against the rules to dye your hair, so why is it pink?" he demands.

Their teacher looks carefully at the girl, ready to spring into action if needed.

Sakura's hands clench together so hard her arms were shaking, her eyes glaring at the wall to her left, and her teeth biting her lip until it slightly bled.

They watch confused as she manages to part her lips. "That's because my genetics are shit!" she spits out, as if the mere words were a disgusting burning poison to her mouth.

* * *

**Yeah, sorry I put so much of it into no one's POV, but I didn't want the talk about the shower girl to turn into a POV just because it would be a pain to write, and then I got too lazy to change it again.**

**Anyway…**

**There's probably a few mistakes in there, but I'll reread in later, I find them easier when they're in the actual story format.**

**I know it wasn't a very good chapter, but I hope you liked it none the less.**

**Just to let people know, that schedule was a BITCH to write!**

**CAN'T WAIT UNTIL GYM CLASS!**_** goes to dream about what should be done during the class taught by Gai-sensei**_

**P.S. I think it's kinda funny how the first spelling correction option for Gai is gay. Now I think Gai is cool and all, I just find it funny. (no offence to gays)**

**Also! I am NOT pushing religion onto anyone, if you felt that way when reading this chapter you are mistaken, I AM NOT!**


	7. Tiger, Tiger

**So…it was brought to my attention that I skipped how Sakura got to school… hehe… Thank you very VERY much Bullet2tm for pointing that out, for I have thought of a scenario for that! So glad someone caught that fact, or it might have been a little confusing…teehee.**

**Thanks again for all of you who read and/or reviewed. So happy you like it!**

**Sorry if my chapter is short, I'm having a hard time seeing when it's getting long or not, because on Microsoft some of my chapters are 13 pages long, but the 11 page chapter is longer when I post it. Strange I know.**

**If this is too short I am sorry! I'm trying to figure out how long to make them!**

**Okay, I don't remember if I gave the maid a name already, but I'm going to just call her Miranda until someone tells me otherwise. 'K? **

**Notice: I will be at my Grandpa's for the 4****th**** of July, trying not to burn his house down with the fireworks, but none the less, I will be gone. So I am trying to get one maybe two more chapters up for this story by Wednesday. **

**I don't own Naruto or Microsoft Word.**

**Okay, 'nuff chit chat, TO THE CHAPTER!**

* * *

_**Sasuke's POV**_

My finger taps on my number two wooden pencil as I absentmindedly chew on its eraser, a habit I thought I had gotten rid of.

Sighing, I place the pencil back on my desk. After all, such habits are very unbefitting for an Uchiha. Instead, I give my full attention to the front of the classroom, at least there's something interesting up there.

Our teacher fidgets nervously, something very out of character for him, scratching the back of his masked head for something to ease his emotions while trying his best to look natural for Sakura. "We don't really have a seating arrangement in this class, so… sit wherever you like, Chickie."

She nods, completely uncaring of where she was going to sit, shoving her beautifully pale thumbs into the belt hooks of her uniform's skirt, and scans the classroom for an empty seat.

I can't help but stare at her as she walks toward the back of the room. Her figure is tensed, yet slightly slouched, her eyes a blaring color, which she has trained to look incredibly intimidating without glaring, radiating a sort of self-respect that most guys have. It's as though she has an incredibly high understanding of herself, yet doesn't drown it in pride.

Almost like a tiger, dangerous, yet too beautiful to look away from.

My fingers drum against the cold surface of my desk, a slight wisp of a peppermint and vanilla fragrance pleasing my senses as the Pink Haired Wonder passes by my desk, turning suddenly, sitting in the seat next to me after adjusting her book bag, and giving her full attention to the sunlit window as her chin rests comfortably in her hand.

She's completely different from what she was like before.

Only a day ago she was aggressively playful, daring someone to try and challenge her, yet willing to defend her rights, not to mention her awareness to the environment around her.

But now…

Her hair falls onto her neck, sliding down her skin until it falls away from my view in front of her shoulder, head tilted tiredly onto her hand, full attention at the world outside the window, completely ignoring the noise of the classroom as if she were the only one here.

I sigh, pressing my hand to my head in concentration.

How did she get like this? Personalities don't change _that_ fast…

Even this morning…she was entirely… prepared…

* * *

_**This Morning**_

_The light from the fridge blinds me as I reach for the carton of milk._

_Its container is cold in my hand as I bring it over to the counter, pouring its contents into a crystal glass, sitting myself down on one of the wooden stools._

_It's late, probably around three in the morning._

_A small growl escapes my lips, replaced by the freezing white liquid sliding down my throat._

_Even though it's this early in the morning, I can't seem to get tired. I've been up ever since the dinner…excitement, tossing and turning in bed. Try as I might, sleep would not overcome me._

_Music did not help._

_Reading did not help._

_Rechecking my history homework didn't even seem to tire me._

_So here I am, in the stillness of the dark kitchen, drinking to my hearts content._

"_Sasuke."_

_I freeze._

"_Shouldn't you be in bed? Exams are coming up, are they not?"_

_Swallowing another small sip of my milk, I turn toward the living room to answer the deep voice of my father._

"_I'm going to bed shortly, I just needed a glass of water."_

_I can somewhat make out his figure through the darkness._

_He's sitting on the Italian leather couch, his face stern, and focused ahead of him, staring at the door as if he was expecting someone._

_That's odd._

_Usually father has very logical reasons for what he does, who could be coming at this hour?_

_I somehow manage to find my voice._

"_Is something wrong, Father?" I somehow managed to keep it from cracking in front of him, thanks to the wetness from the milk._

"_No, it's nothing I can't take care of." he says with his gruff voice, though anyone could tell of his stress by the sharp edge to the sound._

_Chugging down the last of the milk, I rinse out the empty glass, place it in the sink, and start walking toward the staircase to return to my bedroom._

_I take a deep breath as I pass through the living room, trying very hard not to look at my father._

_I was almost halfway out of the room when the faint sound of a door opening fills my ears. Turning to my left I see the door Father was looking at opening, revealing my newly acquired stepsister._

"_It's late out. Where have you been?"_

_I look to my father, now returned to the stoic expressionless man I known him as._

_Sakura steps into the house, shutting the door quietly behind her. She turns, sending my father a look filled with so much self confidence I feel almost cowardly compared to her._

_She stands strait, looking Father directly in his eyes. "I went to find my resolve."_

"_And? What is your resolve?" he crosses his legs, leaning forward slightly, challenging her newfound ideals._

_Sakura doesn't even seem to notice the pressure my father is forcing on her._

"_I have realized that I have stepped out of my bounds. I should not have sworn at you, nor should I have raised my voice." she's glaring at him now…but it's not quite a glare. It's like the unwavering emotion in her gaze is intimidating all on its own. "However, I will not take back what I have said, for you as well, have overstepped your bounds, Mr. Uchiha."_

_He leans back in his chair, a content look on his face._

"_And how should we make amends for our wrongdoing?"_

_Father…admitted to being wrong?_

_A smirk appears on Sakura's face, illuminated by the pink in her hair._

_I gulp slightly._

"_There is nothing else to make amends for. We were both out of bounds, therefore our actions cancel each other out. But I will tell you this," I watch as she steps toward the stairs, right beside me, her hand sliding up the railing slowly. "the upcoming exams, I won't hold back. I shall prove to you how useless a name is by beating both of your sons."_

_I take a small breath, the pressure in the atmosphere seems to have subsided slightly._

"_Is that so?" Father calls, seemingly truly curious as to her statement, as well as slightly amused. "Itachi is top in the school and Sasuke is in the top twenty. How is it that you are going to beat them?"_

_My stepsister turns slightly, her hair falling gently onto her face, making her look far more intelligent than before. She taps the side of her head, a cunning glint to her eyes._

"_You don't think Tsunade chose me as an apprentice just because I knew a few medic skills, did you?"_

_I look to my father, waiting for his counter. Instead I see his eyes narrow, his jaw clench, a serious expression on his face, one that I've only seen when he's brought work home. He must feel threatened._

_And then it happens._

_His mouth twitches, once, twice, the skin sliding upward._

_My father, Fugaku Uchiha, slightly…smiles._

"_May the best student win."_

_Sakura grins at his approval._

_Turning to me, she illuminates with some emotion I can't quite place. It's not joy, nor is it happiness…it's somewhere between._

"_Well then Sasuke!" she reaches forward, grabbing my hand in her own and pulling me towards her up the stairs. "Let's get going to bed, there's school tomorrow after all!"_

_A warm feeling comes to my face…am I blushing?_

_It's too dark for anyone to tell anyway, it must just be the heater kicking in all of the sudden._

_She spins forward and continues walking up the stairs, pulling me deliberately behind her._

"_Sakura." Father calls._

_She stops, giving him her attention._

_He clears his throat. "Make sure to thank our maid, Miranda, for she has cleaned up your room. Also, as punishment for sneaking out and returning so late, you are to get to school on your own. You're legs can handle that, can they not?"_

_I turn to my sister. She doesn't appear to be angry or nervous about the long distance to school. Instead she nods, completely agreeing with the punishment._

_My eyes narrow slightly and I take the next few moments to try to understand her actions._

_I sigh, unable to find my answer._

_I don't get women._

_I glance down her arm to her hand. It's still holding mine._

_Warm and gentle, a creamy ivory white in the darkness, while mine is a pure white..._

_My face isn't heating up anymore, so it must have been the furnace after all. How funny. For a moment there I actually thought I was blushing._

_Once again, Sakura drags me up the stairs._

"_Oh, and Sakura, before I forget…" Father starts._

_I seriously want to growl at him._

"_What?" Sakura asks so calmly to him that you'd think she'd been around him for years._

_He stands up from the couch, walking toward the hallway to get to his own room. Before he disappears into the darkness behind its doorway, he stops himself, turning to us again. "The facilities and equipment on the Uchiha estate…feel free to use them as you please."_

"_Thank you."_

_She turns to me, one last time, releasing my hand to cross her arms in front of her chest._

"_Sasuke Uchiha," she says with a hint of cockiness, "you and Itachi better study hard to keep your places, because I'm going to be taking them from you. Anyway…" her face brightens slightly. "good night!"_

_And with that she finished going up the stairs by herself._

* * *

So why? After all of that this morning…

She's still staring out of the window, the light reflecting off her hair in such a way that it almost looks blonde.

She hasn't moved for the past five minutes.

Is she sleeping?

"So! You're name's Sakura, is it?"

My eyes fill with the sight of the blonde idiot in front of Sakura, asking her an obviously stupid question, slamming his hands down on her desk to try and get her attention.

She doesn't even tense.

"Ah?" he whines, tilting his head to the side to try and get into her line of vision. "Don't you remember me? It was Friday, you came to my house to use my shower! Remember?"

That…that idiot!

The whole classroom is looking at them now, some with perverted expressions on their faces, especially Kankuro's…though it's odd, not like his usual perverted smile. There's a hint of…nervousness? Perhaps he knows she's out of his league…for once.

Sakura repositions her arm so her head can turn towards him. Her face is blank, no emotion what-so-ever. "Is that so?"

"Yes, it is so!" The idiot points to himself, a confident grin on his face. "My name is Naruto Uzumaki! I forgot to introduce myself yesterday when-"

"-you fell off of your chair when you realized I was a girl and I was about to head out the door." she offers, blinking at him tiredly.

A few people try to hold their snickers, though half the class is out right laughing. Even Kakashi is trembling.

He didn't realize… What an idiot! It's so obvious she's a girl!

I stop myself.

I didn't realize she was a girl either, but…

…Itachi, he knew right away…

My hands clench as I grit my teeth, trying to suppress the hatred for my perfect brother.

Every damn thing about him is above standard. His looks, his intelligence, his fighting skills, his business skills, his ability to understand women! The list goes on and on!

"Prince Sasuke? Are you alright? Would you like me to walk you to the nurse's office?"

The warmness of a hand being placed on my shoulder makes me snap.

"Don't touch me!"

I slap it away, harshly.

The girl whimpers, holding her stinging hand, a few tears welling in the corner of her eyes.

Her hair is completely black, too contrasting with her features and artificial golden complexion…maybe she dyed it? Her violet eyes are breathtaking, but the gleam in them makes anyone understand how backstabbing she is, making their beauty completely dissolve.

It's a face that has been trying to get near me for a long time.

Mira Amana.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to touch you Prince Sasuke! Please forgive me!" she bows incredibly low, as if I were actually a prince.

"You're annoying." I grumble, turning away from her to glare at the wall.

Usually if I'm cold to them they go away.

"I-I'm sorry!" she says one last time before running all the way back to her seat, which was in the front row, furthest to the right.

I'm in the back row, furthest to the left.

These girls are always so irritating! Prince Sasuke, huh? The title makes me sick. I'm not some Host Club member that will act out their fantasies for them.

They're all the same: stupid, annoying, stalkers, and completely ugly on the inside.

This one actually had the nerve to try and comfort me.

Do I look like I need comforting!?

I let my hand press against my face, my fingers placed specifically: my thumb on my right cheek, my pointer along the bridge of my nose, and the others along my other cheek, allowing the palm of my hand to slightly cage my mouth. I don't know why it is that I have to have them placed exactly like that, but the movement always seems to calm me down more than any other position.

I just tell myself to take a few deep muffled breaths through the confinement of my hand, and I soon return to my regular composed self.

I'm just having a bad day.

That's got to be it…

"Come sit with us, Sakura!" Naruto's annoying voice yells.

I watch him pull Sakura's desk toward his group of friends, her still being completely bored and letting it happen. That is, until she finally decides to talk "This is called kidnapping you know." she growls, though her voice is too bored to add any danger to her tone, as he swings her desk around into a small opening the group had formed, right next to his own.

I feel a strong snarl making its way up my chest.

Why can't they just leave her alone! She's not like those freaks! She'll never want to make friends with them…

I watch as Tenten, who was sitting to her left, leans in to talk to her. "You know, Sakura, Sasuke has been looking at you nonstop ever since you entered the classroom… Do you know each other? Closely I mean."

What!? I have not!

Have I?

I blink quickly, focusing on what I was doing, then quickly turning away, avoiding their eyes.

I can hear the faint sound of Sakura sighing.

"Yeah, you could say I've _met_ him. We're not close though, it's not like I know his birthday or nothing. I guess you could say…" I can't help but look at her now. She stops to think a moment, her face becoming slightly irritated as she tries to find the right word. Moments later it relaxes, going peaceful. "We're acquaintances."

My heart stops.

Acquaintances? I think we're a little more than that, don't you think? Our parents married each other!

Or had she already forgotten that little fact!

True, Father didn't want people to know about that…but she could've said that we were old friends…or that she was Miranda's niece or something!

Tenten clutches her heart, sinking in her chair dramatically as if she just had a heart attack. "Wow, I didn't know Sasuke even _had _aquaintances."

Their circle of friends starts laughing now, making fun of me in their own inside joke.

My teeth grit.

Who the hell do those losers think they are!? I absolutely hate them. I'll get them back for th-

DIIIING DIIING DIIING!

The bell.

Class is officially over.

I'll have to get my revenge later…

The corner of my eye catches they flying waves of Sakura's pink hair as she bolts up, her bookbag swinging dangerously at her hip as she drags her desk effortlessly back to its original position. Adjusting the angle of the desk quickly, she speed walks past her side of the room and halfway out the door before anyone else has gotten out of their desk.

"Chickie? Where are you going?" Kakashi muses, looking at her over the tips of his feet-which are placed on his desk again, with his one eye-which he had the courtesy to tear away from his orange book for her.

She freezes, turning around slightly to look toward him, wearing another one of her unreadable masks, the same uptight aura.

"Lunch."

Kakashi sighs. "Do you know what it looks like there?"

She has a hesitant look on her face, as though she was asked the dumbest question in the world.

Did she think he was joking?

She tilts her head to the side, the shadow of the door way covering half of her face, allowing her skin to shine with an illuminating glow. "The big room with all the people eating food, right?"

"Very funny. _Where_ is it _exactly_?"

Sakura looks out toward the hallway, her face scrunches up slightly before turning back to our teacher. She directs her hand toward the doorway. "Out of this room, follow the hallway?"

Kakashi sighs, as if this were a usual routine.

"Someone please show Chickie to the cafeteria."

She doesn't know where it is?

That's right, didn't she say she got lost on the way here? It must have been Haku that showed her the way…only something stalled her to take longer.

My hand twitches as I slightly start to raise it to be the volunteer.

I can be a good student, can't I? It's not like anyone will think there's something between us. It's just a volunteering gesture to help out the new student…

"I'll do it! We already know each other so she'll be more comfortable with my group, Kakashi!" Naruto yells loudly, running over to Sakura and grabbing her hand possessively.

Kakashi nods to the idiot.

Damn it.

My teeth bite against my lip to hold back my complaints.

It's not that I want Sakura to stay with me, I just don't want her with those…_delinquents! _Who knows what they'll do to her! After all, isn't it my duty as her brother to protect her?

I stop my thoughts.

Brother?

When did I start thinking I was her brother? We're not even blood related!

Growling again, I lean back in my chair, watching helplessly as Naruto drags Pinkafied out of the room, soon followed by his group of friends.

Everyone is the classroom follows their example and head out of the class as well, leaving only me and Kakashi.

I sigh, lifting myself up out of my desk, calmly walking over to the door.

"Sasuke."

I turn to my teacher, who's staring at me intently.

I suppress the fearful feeling bubbling up in my chest.

Kakashi drops a group of papers against his desk, evening all of their edges together.

"I don't know what your relationship with Chickie is," he says so seriously you'd almost think he were her father, "but look out for her. She's not like most girls."

I shove my hands in my pant pockets, giving my teacher a blank stare before heading out the door.

* * *

The hallway is deserted, everyone is probably already in the lunch line or out of school.

I can't help but remember what Kakashi said to me, almost hinting at a warning.

"_Look out for her, she's not like most girls."_

I know she's not like most girls, she's got too strong of a personality for that.

After a few moments of walking my nostrils fill with the scent of Italian food and spices as I turn to the doorway leading to the lunch line, already filled with waiting people.

I grab one of the pink trays stacked on the metal table by the doorway, letting it carefully slide against the cold reflective edge of the countertop where they serve the food.

Nothing very interesting is served for school food, though it is better quality since we're a prestigious school, meaning that the lettuce is always green, the bananas always a blinding yellow, and other bright colors for the other foods, all of which were prepared by a professional chef. Passing over the choice of a plate of chicken curry, I just decide with grabbing a delicately prepared chicken breast, a container of chocolate milk, and a spoonful of black cherry Jell-O. I pay for the food by giving the young brunette lunchlady my ID card, then heading out of the line and into the cafeteria.

The loud noises deafen my ears, yet I've become so accustomed to it that I could hardly care less.

People overcrowd the tables, trying to speak loud enough to have their opinions and stories heard over the jumble of everyone else.

It's all a bunch of racket to me.

I carry my tray over to the far end of the cafeteria to the table stationed right in front of the only window in the room, where I usually sit, ignoring the looks and hopeful calls of open seats available for me from half the female students.

Every single day it's like this, them being annoying, me trying to ignore them.

You'd think they'd learn by now.

Over the years I've learned to ignore everything is such a way that it all seems like a blur.

Voices, sounds, images, scents, they all mix together into an unidentifiable mass.

I reach the table, setting my tray down making it clang slightly, catching the attention of Itachi-who sits to my left with an empty seat between us. He gives me a quick stare before returning to his own group of friends, discussing something about the school exams and how they could use it to their advantages.

The Akatsuki.

A group of the very top students in the school, all of which are single digits.

Geniuses.

Prodigies.

Feared, respected, and drooled over by the girls, all of which are lead by Itachi, the number one student in the school.

I guess that's what you get from being a child prodigy expected to quadruple all expectations.

Masking my emotions in a stoic screen, I start poking at my Jell-O, slightly regretting that I took it.

I wonder where Sakura is going to sit today...

Kakashi's voice comes into my head again.

"_Look out for her."_

My fists clench as I realize my own reslove.

No need to worry, Mr. Hatake.

I intend to.

* * *

**Yeah, I didn't like this chapter. I may change it later. Depending, once again, on how lazy I am.**

**Sorry it's only in Sasuke's POV, but if it makes you feel any better Gai WILL be in the next chapter...or the one after. It depends on how long I make the lunch scene.**

**_growling_**

**Do you have any idea how hard it is to write in Sasuke POV when you have no "I have to kill my brother for revenge!" mode going on? He's actually quite boring without that whole thought process. _sighs_ Why do all the emo ones stop being so bad? Wait! _gasps_ There's…GAARA! HE'S STILL EMO **_**AND**_** BAD! _smiles_**

**Oh, and if anyone is against bookbag being one word, suck it up. Microsoft may think it's two different words but **_**I **_**refuse to use that confusing logic. (**_**has a very strange, even MORE confusing logic of her own)**_

**Hope you enjoyed.**


	8. Confrontation

**Again, I have taken some lines and concepts out of this chapter. They're minor (probably not that noticeable) I have deleted all comments about her dad, as well as the whole blood and gore thoughts/memory.**

**Gaara and Sakura WILL be getting VERY close in the next couple of chapters. It's just going to take a while. I am not the type of author that has the character meet and then have sex a few minutes afterward. They need to get to know each other first, otherwise, I feel, the characters sound like sluts/dickheads. Plus, I want this to be a long story. It's not going to be an 11 hit wonder. It's going to be LONG! That way I can get more details in and get the feeling I want.**

**Oh, and there is a reason for all the Sasuke/Sakura moments…but those won't be revealed until…later.**

**Sorry if it's too slow of a pace and sorry if I sound bitchy, in my excuse I point you all to Example A, I am a teenager who has moodswings, Example B, I had to write more in Gaara's POV, which SUCKS!**

**Oh, and if you didn't know (since I didn't really describe him before) Kankuro doesn't wear the face paint. If you don't know what he looks like without it…um…watch the Shippuden part of the series?**

**Oh, and sorry for any spelling mistakes, I have to read it in story format to actually notice them, so I'll edit it more later.**

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

The door opens.

Bright.

Blinding.

Beautiful.

These are all words that could describe how I felt when I saw what its cold metal was hiding.

My foot crosses the threshold of the opened door, stepping down onto the hard concrete of the floor.

"It's only the roof, but it's ours. No one else comes up here…except a few teachers, but otherwise we can eat here in peace. It's our group's personal hideout." Naruto's voice says from right beside me. It's gentle, slow, and clings to the air sweetly.

He's proud.

I nod to him, showing how greatly I understand his liking for the place.

The brilliant rays of the sun cloak him in brightness, making him glow with a warm aura.

His eyes close, his face soaking up the feeling of the rays.

I do the same.

It feels wonderful.

The warmth of it caresses my cheeks, my eyes seeing colors behind my lids from the intensity of its light; fireworks in the darkness of night.

"Alrighty you two poetic peoples, but I've got food to eat, so if you don't mind…" a gruff voice calls behind Naruto and me, as its owner's body slides its way through the small opening between us.

I have to move to the side to let him fit through, half pushed and half on my own free will.

I only catch a small glimpse of him as he passes between us, a gray jacket wearing boy with dark brown hair that waves in the wind as he moves, and this scent I smell…

Dog.

Yes, the musty wild smell of a canine fills my senses, slightly burning and overwhelming, yet dulling and numb.

A perfect combination.

Naruto stirs at my side, running forward at full speed, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Time to eat!"

I can't help but smile.

He's so carefree, so innocent… like a small child.

Sighing, I follow him to the long wooden picnic table where he has planted himself between a blonde haired girl and the shaggy brunette haired boy.

The table is positioned about two feet away from the meter high railing stopping kids from falling off the roof, casting a pitiful striped shadow over the occupants sitting on that side. There are only two vacant seats left, both of which are located at the very end of the table, coincidentally across from each other.

Deciding that I didn't want to burn in the hot sun, I choose the side next to the railing. My legs drag me around the table to make it to my seat. Placing my tray on the near-rotting wood I somehow manage to sit down on the damp plank without getting any splinters, and for that I am grateful.

The person sitting next to me is the blonde girl, who -now that I'm close enough to take a good look at her- has a heavy circle of eyeliner around each of her eyes and has tied her hair into four identical ponytails on the back of her head. Her arms are decorated with large black bracelets studded with silver spikes, and around her neck is choker style chain necklace holding an upside-down cross at its center.

I look across the table now, angling my sight slightly -since there's no one _directly_ across from me- at the seat next to the vacant one.

A redhead sits there quietly, even thicker rings of eyeliner around his eyes, which are staring at his tray of food as he forks his salad into his mouth boredly. An aura with the feeling of a wall guards him, filling the small space around him with murderous intent triggered at anyone who would dare try and break into his space. His face turns up slightly as he grabs his container of orange juice, blasting me with the view of his aqua colored eyes.

I freeze as a familiar chill makes its way down my spine.

These two people…wait a minute… Déjà vu?

Fidgeting a little, I angle myself toward the blonde more -since it would be rude to penetrate the redhead's space since he so clearly doesn't like it, trying to find the will to speak to her.

"Don't…don't I know you two?" I say firmly.

The blonde eyes me suspiciously as I glance back and forth between her and the boy, still trying to find the connection that was buried somewhere deep in my mind.

The two look at each other silently, the redhead glaring at her with a demanding expression while the blonde shrugs her shoulders before turning away from him and back to me.

"We've been around." is all she says.

I nod, not really liking her explanation when she so clearly knows something, as well as the boy, but I'm in no condition to argue with her since she could make up any excuse and I would be none the wiser.

My hand reaches down to grab my container of milk when an excited voice interrupts that action.

"What about me? Do you remember me?"

Picking up my milk slowly I turn to the voice. It's the shaggy sand haired boy that was making all the perverted comments earlier in English.

I look him over.

His complexion is tanned, but not one of those fake ones most girls get, it's an all-out sun-fried tan. His expression is firm and intimidating, yet the gleam in his eyes and the slight smirk on his chapped lips shows off his more curious…maybe even perverted… side.

I turn back to stare at the empty space in front of me.

"I've never seen you before in my life."

* * *

_**Gaara's POV**_

What did she say?

I eye her suspiciously, trying to see if she's lying or not, but it's too hard to tell. Her expression hasn't changed, still impassive and cold.

I change my gaze back to my tray as I stab the last of my salad with my fork, lifting it to my mouth, and biting.

True, she might recognize us since we were with her all of last night and not Kankuro since he was barely around her, but the fact that she can't remember being with us might mean that her head injury was worse than we had thought. If she had been smart and stayed with us a while longer we could have observed her like responsible medics should.

I growl, drowning out my unneeded thoughts with another long drink from my orange juice.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see that my idiotic older brother is acting depressed at being forgotten, moving his last grape around his tray with his spoon in a small tantrum.

"Hey, Sakura," I hear Kiba's annoying voice ring throughout the silence, "why do you have three milks?" he finishes, pointing his fork toward her tray from his end of the table.

She brings the milk she had been drinking down to be placed back on her tray.

"Is it a crime?" she asks innocently, arching her eyebrow with curious perfection.

Kiba backs down, his hand lowering his pointing fork slightly. "Ah… no… just wondering."

I smirk.

I guess she's not so special after all.

She rests her chin on her hand, which was boredly supported by her elbow, grabbing her milk again and chugging it down to finish off the carton.

I look at her tray now, since I have nothing else better to do now that all my food is gone.

She's like usual girls, besides Tenten, not taking the really greasy food -as if it would make them fat. Instead, she has her main course being a salad without any dressing or toppings, which she is shoveling into her mouth hurriedly. I'm not really interested in her eating habits, but Kiba made a truthful point. She has three cartons of whole milk, though she's finished one already, as well as a protein shake.

That's…odd.

Usually if girls are dieting they avoid drinking whole milks since it has more fat than regular milk, and she's drinking three…

Her pale hands unscrew the top of the protein shake now, her salad gone, as well as two of her milks (the second one being swallowed before I could even notice)

There's no reason to be in such a hurry, we still have half an hour left of lunch.

Temari pipes up now, not wanting to watch the scene any longer. "Slow down, you're going to choke!" she orders to Sakura, who was busy chugging down the shake.

She stops, taking deep breaths from the lack of air as she places the empty bottle on her tray. "I don't have half an hour, I want to catch Kakashi before my next class."

Naruto leans past Temari to talk to Sakura.

"Why do you wanna meet him?"

A slight breeze blows past our table, making the napkins and stray homework papers flutter slightly, much to the grumbling discomfort of Naruto who didn't pin his down with his tray.

Sakura sighs, combing back the loose strands of her hair behind her ear to keep them out of her face. "I need to discuss something with him."

I lean back in my seat, careful not to go back to far causing me to fall off, but far enough to let the space between the table and my chest become comfortable. I rest my arm down on the wood, its rough chipped planks giving a sharp scraping feeling against my skin, but I don't care. A sliver or two isn't going to kill me.

A loud coughing erupts toward my right.

"I told you that you were going to choke!" Temari scolds as Sakura tries to regain her breath. The last empty milk carton is placed diligently on her tray as if nothing were wrong. She manages to stop coughing, sliding her hand across her mouth to get rid of any left over residue from both her coughing as well as her milk.

Naruto blushes slightly at her innocent maneuver.

I glare at him.

He sees, turning away from me quickly to hide it.

"So, Sakura," Kiba barks suddenly, snapping the attention of the whole group, "Has everyone been introduced to you yet?" He leans back so far that he would have fallen if his arms were not holding his bench, while he flashes a teasing grin to the girl.

She fidgets a bit.

"I know Naruto, you and…Kakashi." She says sweetly, looking toward the tranquil sky with her eyes as she counts the people off on her fingers. "That makes three, if you don't know your math." she jokes.

"Well then!" Naruto booms, nearly lunging off his seat, "I can introduce them to you!"

I zone out from then on, not really caring what she thinks of everybody.

So here I sit as he talks about himself, Kiba, Shikamaru, Chouji, Tenten, Neji, Hinata, Shino, and my siblings and me.

All of them so annoyingly familiar to me it's almost sickening.

A cold breeze brushes past my body, making me shiver slightly.

Even after living here for almost half a year, I still haven't gotten used to the climate difference.

In Suna everything was blistering hot, the sun was always scorching, and the sand blinded you by reflecting its rays.

Nothing like it is here.

"What do you have for your next class?" Tenten asks with annoying cheerfulness.

"Gym."

Silence.

Finally, Naruto breaks the calm. "Gaara has gym next too, he can show you the way."

What!?

Says who?

I glare at him, a small snarl trembling my lip.

Like hell I'm going to have her stalking me to a class!

Sakura looks between Naruto and me, probably scared by my mood.

"Ah-no, that's fine. Gaara doesn't want to, I can find it myself."

Damn right your going to find it yourself you fucking little-

"Yo!"

I growl.

A few of our group turn around while Kakashi walks toward us, his eyes still glued to his orange book, as usual, while the rest of us ignore him.

He's definitely not a companion of mine. I never trust teachers, and have sent my share of them to the hospital, but he's a lot more carefree than all the other teachers. Plus there's the fact that he brings a book of porn to school everyday. Not many teachers have the guts to do that. So, because of that, I have temporarily decided not to kill him…yet.

He sits down across from Sakura which -much to my annoyance- is right next to me, as if she had sat there each day from the start of the school-year.

"Yo!" he says to her with a small smile, or at least what we have to assume is a smile.

I slightly growl again.

It's none of my concern whether he likes wearing masks or not, but it's just too damn difficult to tell if he's planning something when you can't see his expressions!

Sakura tilts her chin upward at him, that being her greeting.

Her arm slides her tray forward slightly, allowing her to lean in closer to our teacher, while giving him a dangerous glare. "A little bird told me you retired. Is that true?" she hisses, her voice burning with her killer intent.

Oh? So she has a dangerous side, does she?

I thought she only knew how to act like an animal and bite people.

I run a finger over the still-healing indentation of her teeth on my arm. It still stings somewhat, the wound was deep. I'm still going to have to get her for that.

Kakashi acts oblivious to her mood swing, yet tenses slightly in defense. "I see you've talked with Haku."

She smirks cunningly at his comment.

"What are you talking about? I said a little bird told me, weren't you listening?"

The silver haired man looks thoughtful for a moment, which is a face he usually doesn't show. "Oh, yes, must've been a parrot."

"Cut the crap!" Sakura slams her palms onto the table, startling the rest of the group at her outburst.

"Is it true you retired or was he just shitting me?" she nearly screams, standing up against the table.

My eyes wander over to her to observe.

Her eyes are burning with anger, her lip being bitten until the point of bleeding, all for the sake of containing her built up energy.

Kakashi sighs quietly, contemplating how to answer.

He looks up slowly, meeting her eyes with his own. "Yes, it's true."

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

"You fucking bastard!"

I find myself lunging over the table at him, sending my lunch tray flying and accidentally kicking Gaara in the chest as I do, but I don't care, nor do I care that I probably just flashed everyone at the table a glance up my skirt, all I care about is that man getting the shit beat out of him!

That bastard broke his promise. His oath. His life's goal. He promised me!

"You broke your promise you fucking coward!"

I'm watching him, he's alert, ready, fully expecting me to attack him. I should prepare myself to defend any oncoming attacks from him, but that doesn't matter either. As long as my anger gets pounded into him then that will be fine!

"I trusted you!"

He's scrambling on the floor, trying to find his footing from when I pushed him over.

I won't let you…

"Bastard!"

My fist is sent flying right toward his jaw.

Contact.

I got him!

My eyes are glued to him, watching every slight movement he makes as he flies backwards, dive-bombing into the concrete floor.

The slight feeling of me having no breath fills my senses, so I allow myself to breathe, long refreshing gasps of air.

I pull back my fist, watching him painfully trying to sit up.

He's slow, edgy, almost hesitant in a way.

He looks at me.

His eyes are unfamiliar to me; sad, lost, lonely…

"Still as violent as usual..." He sighs, pressing his hand to his masked cheek, wincing at the stinging it brought forth. His eyes narrow slightly. "…maybe even more so."

He presses off of his knees with his hands, thrusting him into the full standing position.

"I guess I deserved that one." he says with a half hearted laugh.

You guess?

"Of course you deserved it!"

He doesn't meet my eyes.

That proves it then…he still hates me for what happened.

I didn't want that to happen, I didn't mean for it…it was an accident! It wasn't my fault!

Yet my vision is blurred by my guilty tears, still being withheld from draining down my face by my sheer willpower.

"Why did you quit?" I demand, so quiet that the question was meant more for myself than for anyone else.

I already knew the answer though.

He hasn't forgiven me… I destroyed his dreams…

"I guess I just wanted a change of scenery…observe my options, I guess." He sighs with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his sliver haired head with his hand.

What?

"You liar!" I scream, my voice nearly hoarse so that it cracks as I yell, snapping my vision to him. "You still blame me, right!?"

My hands clench at my sides, shaking furiously.

"Because of this DNA…because of me… It was all my fault right?"

Do I really sound like that? So pleading and innocent?

Coach shakes his head from side to side, slowly, reassuring me I was wrong.

He walks forward.

"No, I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault, how could it be? I just needed some change is all."

I want to look away, I want to look away from him so badly.

But I can't!

He looks so understanding, so forgiving…so fatherly!

I can't look away from that!

"Nothing has changed has it?" I beg, a single tear sliding down my face.

He gives me his full gaze, willing to show me how sincere his is. "Some things have. Me, you, the way we dress, the way we view things today, the friends we have, the people we know, I started wearing this mask…"

I almost laugh, but I'm trying so hard to hold back my tears that all that comes out of my throat is a loud hiccup.

He walks toward me even more, so close that I could reach out and hug him, instead he places his hand on my head, ruffling up my hair…like he used to.

He smiles, so much so that it's visible beneath his mask.

"Some things are still the same. Your hair is still pink, mine is still silver. I still read porno books, and I bet you still demand to play music when you dance and exercise. You're still, by far, the greatest gymnast I've ever seen and had the pleasure of training. You're still incredibly violent and you still have that habit of crying when you're angry." I punch him lightly in the shoulder at the comment, but it doesn't faze him. Instead, he takes the opening it gave him to wrap his arms around my back, pulling me into his chest. It's warm, something I've missed for years. He lays his chin on my shoulder gently, his warm breath moving strands of my hair. "You're still my chickie, Sakura, and I'm still your mama hen." he whispers into my ear.

I choke up now, barely finding my voice. "You promise?"

He hugs me even tighter. "Yeah, I promise."

This feeling…

I want to drown in it.

It's so warm…and peaceful. This is what a father should really be like…

My hands slide around his waist, clinging myself to him, hugging him back. "Thank you, Coach."

We let go of each other, taking a few steps backwards to allow space between us.

Coach clears his throat, maybe from embarrassment, or maybe he himself was on the verge of tears just like I was.

"How's your mom?" he asks finally, ruffling my hair again, completely messing it up.

Mom…

I look away from him, leaning against the railing to watch the small town below. No building is as tall as the school, which has eight floors. The only thing close to us is some fancy hotel, but they only have six floors, while the rest of the building is built over a large area of land. The sun's light has lit the entire town into a shining beauty. Its rays bounce off of all the metal, windows, glass, and mirrors -sometimes creating the Rainbow Effect. Now that I think about it, the whole town looks like small clay sculptures filled with toys and trinkets making it look like its real-life.

Kakashi is standing right next to me, arms overlapping each other as he leans out to observe the scenery, just like I am.

A light wind blows both of our hair around, blinding us every now and then from the stray strands. His silver bangs just sway all together, while mine tangles and ties to itself… and oddly, I don't mind it so much.

I suppose I should answer him now.

"She's fine, I guess. She married again, this time to someone rich and important. He's got two sons, both of which I despise."

He sighs, raising an inquiring eyebrow. "Is that so? Is that why you went so dark on me?"

I suppress a rather loud and obnoxious snort.

"_Please_," I say sarcastically, "Someone as violent and impulsive as me could only stay away from the dark side for so long. Their screamo is quite good…"

Coach can't help but burst out laughing. When I had had him as a teacher, I had been very adamant that screamo, and the like, was all 'Unsophisticated, unintelligent, earsplitting, noise' He seemed to think I was being sarcastic about the screamo, which I was actually truthful about. He laughed for another few seconds before changing the subject to the next question on his mind. "So, how are your legs?"

I freeze.

My legs?

My legs!

After all this time he's going to ask me about my legs, even though he knows the position I'm in!

I swivel toward him in fury, letting the burning feeling of it shine through my eyes.

I charge him.

"_My legs!"_ I jump in the air, letting my body spin in the familiar, comforting, way -slamming my incoming knee into his stomach. He staggers back, crossing his arms in front of him to try and weaken the blows. That just infuriates me more. _"Are none!"_ I lift my leg up vertically by my head, again ignoring the fact that my skirt is slipping down toward my thigh. I slam my heel down on his head, whiplashing him into a new opening. _"Of your!"_ I do another roundhouse kick, strait into his side. _"Concern!"_ I lean to the left slightly, pull up my leg, and slam the boot into his face. I bring it back slightly, still in the air to prepare for another kick if need be.

My hair is in my face again, some of it falling to my shoulders, others still blowing from the force of my movements, making my vision one hazed in pink, watching the man on the floor intently.

He's definitely out of it, momentarily.

Serves him right bringing up my legs like that! I take care of them the best I can! No gymnastics! I shouldn't even have used them to kick! All because of my damn genetics! I don't even care if I have to take that shot of liquid torture! Not now! He should know I'm doing my best!

I didn't want my body to be like this, it was all _their _fault for not being able to fix me!

I'm not going to cry, I'm much too infuriated for that.

The doctors have always been studying me, poking me, giving me shots, taking my blood, all because my genetic disorder hasn't been recorded before, and what do they tell me! _We're afraid to inform you that your daughter's genetic disorder may cause her to lose her ability to walk. We're still doing research…but since we've never seen this type of illness before…we aren't positive we can stop...or even slow... the effects from happening."_

Ever since then I wasn't able to do ANYTHING! I'm not even supposed to run the mile! How messed up is that!?

"Glad to see you're still fighting what those doctors said." Startled, I watch as Kakashi makes his way to my side again, placing his hand on my head again to ruffle my hair. "I'm happy you still have that defiant spirit, it's what makes you such a great student."

He's not mad I beat him up?

"Oh, and Sakura?" he looks at me, turns red, then quickly looks away.

What?

"Um…skirt…"

I look down. My skirt is riding all the way up my hip, exposing my thighs and my deep green panties.

He…he… "PERVERT!"

DIIING DIIING DIIING!

"Ah! The bell!" Thank God! "Gotta go, sorry Coach, see ya later!"

Great I'm blushing.

How humiliating!

I shove the end of my skirt back down to my knees, run over to the table (ignoring the looks and stares of the people sitting there) grab my tray and empty containers off the ground, and yank Gaara and his tray out of his seat forcing him to follow me.

"Come on Gaara, we've got gym!"

I'm never going to be able to look at him again! Goddamnit!

"What was that all about?" Naruto's voice asks innocently.

Kankuro's perverted laugh reaches my ears.

"Who cares? It was hot!"

I squeeze Gaara's reluctantly tense wrist tighter and burst through the only door leading away from my humiliation.

* * *

**Yeah, don't know how long this chapter is. If it's long, great, if it's shorter…shit.**

**Oh, and if you listen to music while you read, during the Kakashi/Sakura scene, listening to the song World at Large by Modest Mouse (which I do NOT own) it fits the mood I wanted…though it doesn't sound like it…**

**Haha, I kidnapped Gaara.**

…**I'm probably gonna die.**


	9. Fighting to the Near Death

**Yep, two chapters in one day! Someone should give me a cookie…and reviews…**

**Anyway, I said a while ago Gai was going to be in the next chapter, however, as you have read in the last chapter, I wasn't able to fit him in. So guess what… IT'S GAI TIME!**

**He's not as **_**youthful **_**as you probably remember, but there is…again…a reason for that. I just haven't gotten to it, yet, though you might be able to figure it if you read the previous chapter carefully as well as the author's note at the end of it…if you think **_**really**_** hard.**

**Oh, and I thought I'd let you know that Living Without Wings is COMPLETELY kicking Ghost Hunt: House of Monsters' ASS! Well…it has been for a while, I just thought I'd say that. LWW is in first place with 31,065 words(not counting this chapter or the one before it) 7 chapters(again, not including this or the last one) 51 reviews and 1,577 hits, 18 favs, and 17 alerts(AGAIN not counting this chapter of the last one. GHHM is in second place with 19,866 words, 8 chapters, 30 reviews, 2,409 hits, 5 favs, and 14 alerts.**

**I am so proud of this little story of mine! **_**wipes away tears of pride **_**It's so much bigger than what I had expected! I am so happy to all of you who read and enjoy this!**

**Anyway…**

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

Oh thank God!

I turn right and left, observing every inch of my reflection, making sure nothing that could be seen by a pervert is showing. THANK GOD they have mirrors in the locker room.

It would suck if they didn't.

I've never actually been one for gym myself, but it's always nice that they allow you to wear what you want…as long as it consists of shorts or sweatpants, and a baggy T-shirt with no profanities and what-not.

Lucky me, I was able to wear a pair of a-size-or-two-too-big dark purple sweatpants with a drawstring, so that fixed the problem of it form-fitting to my butt. My shirt? It was one I usually slept in: a gray T-shirt that went down past my hips.

I smile.

Let's see you try and find something to stare at you perverts!

I guess this school isn't so bad, though I have to say, my last school was still better. There were so many clubs and activities you could sign up for, and you could try every language in the world! Here you only get to choose between ten, and even then -if there weren't five or more people in the class, you'd have to choose a different one, while at the old school as long as one person signed up you got the class.

Not to mention all the rivals and friends I had there.

Example, Ino, also known as Ino the Pig, or else just Ino-Pig for short.

More of a rival than a friend, but definitely someone you'd want as a shopping buddy…then again…you'd probably hate the mall right after she took you on the first trip. I remember we once had to shop at every store until it closed. They had to kick us out of the mall!

It's all very terrifying, now that I think about it.

Oh how I miss my arch enemy/rival.

Of course, I'd never say that to her face.

There are some lines you just don't cross, no matter how miserable you are.

Since I'm all ready, I decide I should go out into the gym room, waiting for what horrors I'll be given today.

So I do.

Kissing the lockers, tiles, benches, and bathroom stalls living in the locker room goodbye, I push the door open and walk out into my new class…

…immediately wishing I hadn't.

* * *

_**Gaara's POV**_

He's such a freak.

Gai.

Our gym teacher.

A full grown man that is always wearing green and/or spandex is just wrong.

Someone should just run him over with a truck already. They cold always use the excuse that they thought he was a frog…

I relish in the thought as I watch him.

That's strange…he's not wearing entirely all green today.

Instead he wears orange shorts so short it goes above where his fingertips reach (which is ironically against the dress code) with a sleeveless deep green shirt that exposes the muscles on his arms, as well as his abs, overlapped by the large whistle hanging around his neck.

I think I'm going to be sick.

"Well then class, today we are going to practice self-defense." our 'teacher' starts. Half the class groans. Gai sighs, writing a few names down on the clipboard in his hands. "Now, I know you think it's all just a pain in the butt, but let me tell you this, especially to you girls. When you're walking down a dark alleyway, or are all alone by your car, what happens when a pervert appears behind you and attacks you? What will you do? Imagine trying to scream for help, but there is no one there to hear you. How will you defend yourself?

Well…they could always grab a knife they've hidden on their self and shred his throat…or if he tries to shove his dick in their mouth they could always bite it off. Not to mention strangulation, breaking of the limbs, shoving the attacker's nose into his brain, the options are endless.

That is, unless they're too queasy… or want to be raped.

I scowl.

Women are just too stupid. They're weak and fragile, yet they try to act all tough. They don't have as strong of muscles as guys do, yet they always put themselves in positions that demand it. I say that if they put themselves in those positions like that then they _deserve_ to get raped.

It's simple logic.

Cause and effect.

"Now, I'm going to demonstrate to you what might happen in a situation like that, so I'm going to need a female volunteer."

I close my eyes and lean my back against the wall, letting the cold of the concrete stun my neck and shoulders.

He's not going to get any volunteers.

No girl would volunteer to be assaulted by a perverted looking old man in front of everyone, nor would they dare embarrassing themselves when they couldn't do anything about it.

He must have realized this now because he lets out a loud sigh.

"Alright then, I guess I'll have to choose someone…how about…" He's probably glancing at his clipboard now, looking for a name of someone who's here. "Ah! Why don't we use this to introduce our new student, Sakura Haruno."

I open my eyes.

Sakura? He's going to use her for the self-defense example.

This could be…interesting.

I find myself smirking.

Sakura stands, grabbing the attention of most of the class who hadn't seen her before, walking towards our teacher, grabbing a pony-tale off of her wrist and immediately using it to tie her long hair back so that it stays out of her face.

"Well then, thanks for coming up without complaint, most people would make a fuss about it," he jokes, running his hand through his idiotic jet black bowl-cut hair.

She finishes the last twist of her pony-tale just as she reaches the front of the class, staring boredly at the white wall by the rest of the students.

She doesn't seem nervous in the least. In fact…she seems uncaring.

Wait a minute…

Now that I look closer at her she seems…out of it.

Could it be…?

"This is just for demonstration, remember that, I have no intention of assaulting you." Gai reminds her right before lunging at her.

She doesn't tense at this or prepare to attack because she's…

Gai's arm wraps around her waist and his other hand covers her mouth. Her eyes widen slightly at the contact, before turning fierce and lethal.

Oh no…this is…

She leans forward, grabs hold of his arm around her waist, pivoting on her foot, and flings him over her shoulder. He lands on the ground with a hard _SMACK! _right before she prepares to slam her foot down onto his throat.

She stops, only inches from her target

"Ah? Mr. Maito…what are you doing?" she asks innocently, as if him being on the ground and her foot threatening to crush his throat was the most natural thing in the world.

That explains it then…

"Very good, have you had self defense classes before, Ms. Haruno?" he gasps from the pain.

Ever since this class started…

"Eh? Self-defense classes?" she shakes her head from side to side. "No, not really."

She wasn't even paying attention.

I withhold the urge to laugh at the irony of it. After all, Gai was said to be the one of the greatest martial artist in the last two hundred years.

Obviously, that rumor was a lie.

* * *

"We have been studying the correct way to punch, kick, and move under direct attack. We shall use those moves in practice." our defeated teacher starts, picking his injured self up off of the floor, "And, just like me and Ms. Haruno just demonstrated, that is exactly what you should do with that knowledge in such a situation. So today, you are to pair up with your partners and spar. However," he pauses to make his words seem important, "First, you and your partner are to do the trust exercise to prove to each other that you will not try to physically harm them on purpose."

Trust exercise? The one where one person closes their eyes and falls allowing the other person to catch them?

How stupid.

I close my eyes again.

Partners were already pre-decided in a random drawing at the beginning of the year in order for students to partake in the grade-wide project. Each and every student in the whole grade must be assigned and participate with a partner. The school organizes it so that the partners are in every class together (unless they have band or choir or some other useless thing like that) so that they can learn exactly what their paired person is like. In the end, each student is supposed to hand in a fifty page report about their partner, how they act, what they like, dislike, and things that only a close friend would know.

Supposedly this is to help students learn how to understand one another.

Another useless and stupid project that the school has forced us to do, like usual.

However…

I do not need to participate.

Fortunately for me, there was an uneven amount of students, and I was not drawn to be partnered with anyone. Instead, I just have to write a fifty page report about myself.

Pointless as it seems, I'd rather write about myself than be stuck with someone the entire year.

"Mr. Maito? Who should I be partnered with?"

I freeze, stop my breathing, stop wanting to exist, all at the mention of those six words.

_Who should I be partnered with?_

Gai turns to her, scratching his chin in thought. "Well, we've assigned partners already…but if I remember correctly there was one student here without one…so I guess you could be partners with him." He looks over to me, pointing at me.

Just great.

Let me warn you, Gai, if you keep pointing at me like that I'm going to break your finger off your hand. Do you understand this?

Sakura looks to me now, realization appearing on her face.

"Gaara? I'm going to be with him? But he doesn't want a partner does he? I don't want to intrude…"

Scared?

She should be.

Like hell I'm going to be partnered with her, and like hell I'm going to catch her! If she's partners with me she won't live that long, that much I can tell you for sure!

"No, he's the only person left in the grade that doesn't have a partner. You coming here must have been a blessing! Now, go over to him and do the trust exercise already, I need to call the office and report your partnership. Sakura, expect your class schedule to change by tomorrow."

"But-"

She's left there, alone, and scared.

Like a little rabbit in a cave with a wolf.

She sighs, her whole body relaxing slightly in defeat, before she starts walking toward me.

I can't help but watch as her pink hair sway behind her, emphasizing her incredibly beautiful emerald eyes.

She's not…afraid.

Why…why isn't she afraid? I'll kill her! Does she not understand that!

Yet she keeps walking closer…

She's staring at me, her eyes slightly filled with pity, yet with understanding.

That's the look that Yashamaru…

No! Don't come any closer! Stop moving! Go away! I don't need you! I'm fine on my own! I'm fine-

She stands right next to me, leaning against the wall, her shoulder brushing against my own. A small sigh escapes her lips and her eyes close, then she reopens them and turns her head, blasting me with her innocent face. "I tried to talk him out of it, but I couldn't. Even though you're not comfortable with this situation, please bare with it."

With what? The fact that we're partners or that fact that you're touching me!

I'm glaring at her as much as I can now, trying to force her away from me without showing her my weakness. My body is burning up, yet my skin is incredibly cold. It makes me feel sick, clammy, something I shouldn't feel like.

She doesn't seem to notice, she's not scared, she's resilient!

Her eyes are serene, comforting, she feels sorry for me!

Stop looking at me like that! I'll kill you! I'll-

"Gaara! Sakura! What are you doing!? Hurry up and do the trust test all ready, you're the only ones that haven't done it yet!"

Oh God, there's no way out of this…

Fuck!

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

That's odd.

As soon as Gai told Gaara and me to work together the whole gym got quiet.

I look around the large room.

Yep.

Everyone is looking at us.

Even…Sasuke?

Hrmn, I didn't know he was in the class with me.

He's too far away to see his expression, but he's definitely there. (I'd recognize that hair and posture anywhere)

So what? Who cares if everyone is watching? We still have to do the activity.

I turn to my partner, who is busily glaring me to death and probably cursing my soul into hell after I die.

I swallow. He's got pretty intimidating eyes. They're stunning and aqua…no, they're jade! Two frozen lifeless pools of jade- no, that's not true either- they're not lifeless, the color just makes it harder to find his true emotions…

Forcing my eyes away from his own I try to make it look like I'm still staring at him intently, but instead they're looking at his mouth.

I'm concentrating on him so hard that my heart skips a beat when he suddenly walks forward.

"Something wro-"

He grabs hold of my chin viciously, almost painfully, tilting my head upward so my gaze is made to look into his own deathly glare, though he's less than a head taller than me.

He's angry.

"I am not catching you." he snarls, the red of his hair reflected in his eyes, representing blood. My own blood. My own death.

He's serious.

I sigh quietly to myself, whether he noticed or not I don't know.

Is that what this is about? So what? He doesn't _need_ to catch me.

I challenge him with a cocky gaze of my own. My hand reaches up, grasping his wrist and pulling down on it gently, yet with enough force for him to let go of my chin against his will.

"I know that, idiot."

I smile at him. Not one of those _I am incredibly happy right now_ smiles, but I'm filling it with my feelings of _teasing _and _playfulness_, which I have especially measured out to neutralize his own _seriousness _and _killer intent_.

He's still glaring at me, his lip trembling slightly with the threatening snarl he's giving toward my motives.

Whether we like it or not, we're going to have to do this trust exercise, or it's going to be a pain. Besides, if I'm going to beat those damned Uchiha's I'm going to have to ace every problem I've given, and then some.

That is why, at this very moment, I am walking away from Gaara, stopping when I'm about a meter away from him, only to cross my arms in front of my chest.

I gulp, slamming my eyes closed.

This is going to hurt.

Three…two…one…

I let myself fall backwards.

* * *

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" I wince, gingerly rubbing the back of my head to try and console the pain from when it smacked into the wall.

Gaara is still standing exactly where he was, arms crossed, defiant, as usual.

"I told you I wasn't going to catch you." he so generously reminds me.

That aura/wall is back, completely blocking me out.

I growl.

"I _know _that! Hence me telling you 'I know that, idiot'!"

I lift myself off of the ground. My muscles don't really agree with me for they feel like I've just stretched everything in the wrong way.

Ah the things I do to win.

Gai's coming over to us now, jogging hurriedly, the whistle stuck in his mouth and being blown sharply with every small breath he takes.

He spits it out furiously just as he reaches us. "Gaara, this is a trust exercise! You're supposed to catch her!"

The redheaded evil man rolls his eyes toward his superior.

"Do it again!" Gai orders, "Trust between partners is essential! You will not be allowed to spar until you have completed this activity! Or will I just have to give you both failing marks?"

Failing…marks… No! That can't happen! If I have even one single failing mark beating the Uchiha's will be near impossible!

I turn to my reluctant partner, pleading to him with my eyes.

Please do something, say something...anything! I have to win!

He shrugs, and looks away from both of us.

Shit!

I turn back to Gai.

Lie.

Think of a lie.

Something believable, useable.

"Mr. Maito, but we have completed the activity." I say.

Gai quirks a rather bushy eyebrow at me. "I don't see it that way. Why do you think that?

I take a small deep breath, you can do this.

This'll work.

"Well you see, Mr. Maito, Gaara clearly did not want to do this activity, and has shown me with his reluctant body language, that he would not catch me even if I fell. Therefore I fell, completely trusting that he wouldn't catch me, in order to prove his words true. Had he caught me it would make him dishonest, which would also make him untrustworthy. Wouldn't this be a pointless activity if partners just caught each other? Standing by your word is much more respectable than catching a falling body."

"I see. Is that true Gaara?" he turns to him, completely expecting an answer.

I turn to him too, pleading with my eyes again, begging, needing…

Work with me on this! Come one it wouldn't kill you!

No change.

I hiss at him, sending him my words with my most threatening of all glares: _If you don't make him believe you we'll have to do this activity again, and this time I'll make sure to fall on you, you ass!_

"Well Gaara? What's your answer? Is what this girl saying true?"

Oh you better answer soon, you asshole, or so help me (sparring requirements met of not) I will shove my fist into your face!

Gaara shifts his weight onto his left leg, looking away to the side of the room as if we were both nuisances to him.

"Hn."

Hn? What's Hn? Yes, no, it doesn't matter because I'm going to kill you both in the end?

"Well then, glad you two looked so in depth into this exercise. You're free to spar in the last..." our green and orange teacher looks at the silver plated watch locked around his writst, "ten minutes."

He leaves Gaara and me alone so that we can begin sparring.

Funny, I have a major sense of relief washing over me.

Was I really that worried?

I manage to catch a glance at Sasuke again. He's fighting someone toward the western corner of the room, though fighting would be a very questionable term…domination…that's more like it. The boy he's fighting isn't too bad himself, yet Sasuke is able to dodge every punch with the slightest of movements, jump out of the way of every kick, and attack his opponent as if he were standing still.

Damn him.

I'll definitely beat them.

And _he_, I send Gaara another glare, _he_ is not going to stop me!

I spin vigorously on my leg for a mere second, yet the movement gave me such momentum that I'm able to catapult myself toward him with enough speed to knock him over.

To my excitement he's able to dodge such a sudden attack, and replaces it with a stunning blow to the back of my neck with the side of his hand. Falling forward, I manage to snap out my arms and grab hold of his leg right before I smack into the floor. Not expecting me to be able to do such in this position, he tumbles with me, crushing me with his body wait.

All the oxygen I had was immediately forced out of my lungs.

Air!

I try to refill my lung with my much needed element, only to partially fill them each time, causing me to gasp and wheeze for more.

I won't take much more of this…

Gaara's sitting atop me, his knees trapping my torso to the floor, his legs caging my own, and his arms pinning my hands above my head (rendering them useless no matter how much I tried to escape) he himself sitting on my back directly where my lungs are located. He's not fat, he's not even chubby, but the pinpointed weight of it all…

"Stop that!" I fling myself onto my side with as much strength as I can muster, and soon our places are exchanged: me sitting on his lungs, pinning his arms above his head with one hand, except for the fact that I'm on his chest, not his back, making me see his irritated face for all its glory.

His jade eyes are blasting me with another glare, his mouth is twitching into a frown, while his entire face is unemotional, making him seem incredibly diranged.

I can feel his tense chest rising and falling underneath me, lifting me up and down with each passing attempt to catch his breath.

I've felt it before…in many of my fights. All of my past opponents have crumbled beneath the force of pressure I apply to them. They all give up and beg for me to get off, but not Gaara. He's too proud to beg, instead he's trying to throw me off, but I was expecting that. Turning side to side and every-which-way he tries in vein to escape, when all I have to do is shift where my weight is -but only slightly- making each of his attempts as useless as I please.

"I've waged war with the Uchiha's." I say, twisting my free hand in the fabric of his black gym shirt for an extra hold against his thrashing. "I'm going to beat both of them in the exams and knock that damned Itachi off of his pedestal, and you are _not_ going to get in my way!" I snarl, my voice sounding much harsher than I've ever made it sound like before.

His frown becomes a smirk and he slips his arms professionally out of my hold, reaching up toward my face, and encasing his hands around my throat.

"Gah!"

Goddamnit…how did he escape from my grasp so easily?

I lean forward even further to add more pressure to him, in order to make up for the fact that I'm bringing my hands to my neck in an effort to pry his off.

It's not use.

Every time I try to make him let go, he only makes his grip go tighter around my throat.

Shit!

I can't…breathe…

But… I won't…let go…

I won't…lose!

But even though I say that…even though I think that…all of my strength is bleeding away, there are black splotches dancing across my vision and my scarce breathing is sending sharp daggers of pain into my lungs with every forced breath.

I won't last much longer.

I need to win now!

I only have one move left!

Slamming my eyes shut in a last resort prayer of victory, I shift my weight quickly and efficiently so that my knee is stationed on his chest…and then, leaning forward with all of my remaining strength, I slam it deep into his body.

His mouth opens releasing a soft sounding "Eck!" as the very last of air leaves his body.

All of his strength gone, his arms fall down to his sides, leaving me free to allow the painful essence of gasps of air to fill my thirsty lungs, but I have no more strength left, and my arms are forced to my sides as well.

The vague sensation of me falling to the side fills my senses, the world tilting and spinning as I tumble to the ground.

* * *

Black.

I'm I unconscious?

No, I can hear coughing…

…my eyes must just be closed.

I need to open them.

They're a lot heavier than what I expected, yet I manage to lift them open fully.

Gaara is on his side, clawing at his throat, coughing and gasping for breath, spitting up excess saliva in an attempt to free his mouth to allow more oxygen into his lungs.

I soon realize that I'm in no better condition and am doing the same as he, though I belive my coughing is more painful than his.

My face presses against the cold white tiles of the gym floor, making me more aware than what I was only moments ago as the ice coldness of it courses through my skin.

Gaara…I need too…

I start dragging myself, clawing at the floor with my hands and nails to do a pathetic imitation of the army crawl, over to my opponent. He appears before me, acting like a fish out of water as he continues gasping for breath, though his gasps aren't near as demanding as my own. I place a weak hand onto his muscular arm, right next to his shoulder.

I try to smile, though I doubt it looked anything like it.

"Looks like…" A scratching in my throat makes me erupt into a fit of coughing. When I finally catch my breath I'm able to finish what I wanted to say. "I…win."

DIIING DIIING DIIING!

Class… is over…already?

Shit! I still… have to get dressed and… find my next class.

I try lifting my exhausted self up to get away from Gaara and toward the door with the support of my trembling hands, managing to stand on my two wobbly legs.

One step…two step… That a girl, it's easy right? No damage at al-

Black spots…shit.

I'm falling again… I need to stop before…

Something hard and cold hits my stomach and side, breaking my fall.

I wait a few seconds until the blackness fades away again, replaced by a slight ringing.

I look down at what entangled me.

Pale…long…cold…a hand? Yes, that's indeed someone's hand…

My eyes follow the trail of skin slowly, rising as the arm rises, attaching to a body, to a muscular shoulder, to a pale neck, to an even paler face.

My jaw drops at my rescuer.

"Gaara…?"

He says nothing, instead he shifts my weight violently, causing my arm to be thrown over his shoulder and my body to lean against his own.

"Why…?"

He glares at the empty doorway ahead of us, yet manages to pull my nearly limp self tighter against him.

"Just shut up and walk."

I nod my head weakly, still not quite sure why he was helping me, but why he's doing it doesn't really matter, the fact is, he's doing it.

I look at him again, his red hair swaying as he walks, his eyes still focused ahead of us.

I grin.

"Thank you, Gaara."

* * *

**Yeah, yeah, they nearly killed each other…but you know what they say "Nearly killing each other makes the heart grow fonder…"**

**Readers: No one says that.**

**Me: Really? And here I was so sure…**

**Anyway, hope you guys like these last two chapters…though they're probably a little confusing. Aw well, I'm evil like that.**

**Read and review please!**


	10. Portrait of a Stoic Madman

**Once again, I have deleted a certain portion of this chapter. Sakura Haruno is NOT going to be Marriotte Rose. She is just a simple past-time painter. No famous painter. Just to clear that up…**

**In this school day I will completely ignore the fact that she has Health and History next. I find them unimportant to this part of the story, so fuck 'em. To Art we go!**

**I am actually very proud of my work on Gaara's POV in this chapter. It was a lot easier/more fun to write than I ever thought it would be!**

_**Warning**_**: In this chapter Gaara imagines Sakura bleeding and dying…and, well…we all know how he gets when that happens. Ahaha…ha.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

"Art is a very important aspect in each and every person's life. Pablo Picasso with his _Guernica, First Communion_, _The Absinthe Drinker;_ Vincent Van Gogh with _Sunflowers_, _Starry Night_ and the _Potato Eaters_; Leonardo da Vinci with _Mona Lisa, The Last Supper, and Madonna Litta_, each and everyone of them changing the way we view art today." our teacher, Ebisu, starts.

He's standing at the front of the classroom, one of those ridiculously long pointer thingies whapping against the board next to each of the paintings he's referring to. Though they're only prints, each one has been encased in an expensive looking frame, as if the fake prints were actually the real paintings themselves. These over-dramatized pictures were scattered throughout the room running along the collections of white boards and tack boards.

I sigh is disappointment.

Art class is never fun.

Sure, there are some really awe-worthy paintings every now and then, but those are usually gothic paintings depicting death and destruction, demons, and images of hell. Other than that they all give me the feeling that anyone could have done it with enough time. Yes, they are done by famous painters that have lived hundreds of years ago, but most of those are just vague images caused by thick layers of splotched paint, never really making things look real enough to be called an imitation.

Ebisu seems to be in a trance, continuing on with his lecture even though no one is listening. "Why without art we would never have learned to speak! Cavemen used art to communicate their thoughts, beliefs, desires…"

"You mean if I drew my desire to eat a cheeseburger on a wall someone would run to McDonalds for me?" an extremely familiar gruff voice asks the teacher, his voice hinting at both sarcasm and seriousness.

My eyes wander to the speaker, only to roll the moment I found him sitting in his chair, a smug smile plastered on his face.

Yup, that's definitely something Kiba would pull.

I now pronounce him the King of Saying Useless Things to Piss off the Teachers.

Congratulations.

Ebisu adjusts his beady little black sunglasses, turning back to the board to write today's assignment down as if Kiba hadn't said anything at all.

What a creeper.

He's an old man, yet he wears a complete outfit of black, including a black bandanna to cover his (most likely) bald head, with that pair of hideous black sunglasses.

He's like some gothic creepy emo wannabe from the hippie days.

Said Gothic Creepy Emo Wannabe from the Hippie Days walks away from the whiteboard, staring at us as we try to absorb the near illegible words he's written.

_Paint a portrait of your partner. Assignment will be worked on throughout the week._

Oh God!

I look to my left where Gaara is stationed at the easel not even ten feet away from my own.

His frozen jade eyes are glaring back at mine, his chin lowering defensively, as if he's ready to pounce on me, a deep growl emitting from his throat.

I sink in my chair.

Of course, I had to be forced to paint a portrait of him! He hates people looking at him and I'm going to have to do it all week!

I steal another glance at him.

He's looking down at his clenched hands now, as if trying to hold back the urge to strangle me. Again, that impenetrable wall of aura is surrounding him, suddenly masking his emotions until he becomes an unmoving statue.

Great. How the fuck am I supposed to paint _that_?

"Fuck." I mumble under my breath.

Gaara looks at me slightly, but I can't make out what he's thinking.

"What did you just say Miss Haruno?"

I freeze.

Ever-so-slowly I pivot myself until I look behind me.

Ebisu- my scary acting/looking teacher…

"God! Don't do that! You creep me out even more when you sneak up behind me!" I say.

He's slightly taken back by my comment and is adjusting his sunglasses furiously in order to hide the fact that he is, indeed, a creeper. "That's not the point, Miss Haruno. Did you swear just now? Don't you lie to me, I heard you."

I lift my hands to my head to start rubbing my temples, trying to ease the slight headache splitting my brain.

"No, Mr. Ebisu, I did _not_ just swear." I growl.

Do schools give students pain medication for headaches?

I hope so because-

"You're lying! I heard you say the F-word! Detention!"

I stop.

Detention.

If I get detention…that could harm my standings…I won't be able to beat the Uchiha's…

You have to get out of this.

Do what you do best.

Lie.

Resting my hands down on the table gently, I turn back to Ebisu, complete innocence on my face.

"You're going to give me detention when I haven't done anything wrong?"

"You know what you said, and you need to feel the consequences of it!"

"Luck."

"What?"

I watch as my teacher's face contorts into one of confusion, not really understanding my random word.

That's good.

"You're going to give me detention for saying luck? Isn't that a bit Harsh Mr. Ebisu?"

"You're making that up!"

I make my gaze go cold.

"No I am not. I did not swear, I merely said luck. As in Good Luck." he eyes me suspiciously. I dodge this suspicion by directing my hand toward my blood haired partner. "I'm going to need luck in order to capture his true essence, when he so clearly hates people doing that. You know, sir, making false accusations isn't any good. The woman who calls herself my mother wouldn't be very happy about it."

"Your mother? And just who would she be?" he says nervously, his fingers fidgeting frantically.

I smile another childishly innocent smile, tilting my head to the side to add to the effect.

"Mai Haruno."

For a moment I think he's having a heart attack, for he's clutching his chest and his mouth is agape.

"M-M-Mai H-Haruno is your m-mother? She's your mother!?"

I allow my eyes to widen in pretend shock. "You know her?" I ask, letting the surprise of it fill my voice.

"Y-Yes! Of course I know her!" he stutters.

I grin inwardly.

Of course you know her.

An art fanatic like you would know of the top art traders and sellers in the world. You would also know the influence Mai would have on the art society and those who follow it.

"I am so sorry for the misunderstanding, Miss Haruno. It is completely my fault. Please, do not hold it against me. I am merely trying to be the watchful teacher that parents and universities respect."

Suck up.

Though I highly dislike this man I send him another understanding smile and a slight nod, turning back to my desk to prove the discussion is over. He sighs in relief, clearing his throat now that the pressure of my unsaid threat is gone.

"W-Well then class," he starts, back to teacher mode. The class- which had become incredibly quite at our conversation- tears their gazes away from me and redirects them to the teacher, whom I have wrapped around my finger. "I'll be handing out your paint. Please keep the paint on the paper plates. I don't want to see any of it on the floor. Now, using easels is new to most of you, so please know that the canvases located on each of your stands are to stay in that position. You have been organized next to your partners in a way that will make it easy to look at them to base your paintings on them." He stops for a moment, before deciding to add one last thing. "Oh, yes, stick figure paintings will be considered an F…minus."

A couple groans erupt at the last comment, as well as some sighs of hopelessness.

This is going to be a long week.

* * *

Poses.

What should I paint him doing?

True, that most people will just be painting them as they are- sitting across from their partners painting at an easel- but that just sounds so…unoriginal.

I let another sigh escape my lips. One of many I have released in such a short period of time.

I rest my elbows on the edge of the easel holding the paintbrushes, allowing my head to fall against my arms.

This is hopeless.

I'm never going to figure this out!

Knowing that just sitting here isn't going to help me figure anything out, I sit myself up so quickly that my hair falls into my face.

Oh how I hate this class.

I glare at the pink strands interfering with my vision, warning it- once again- that there is such an invention called scissors.

They ignore my warning.

Infuriated, yet exhausted from always fighting with my stupid hair, I run my hand through it, smoothing it back and combing it away from my face.

I stop the movement.

Gaara.

One hand running through his hair…but not like this.

I lean forward, staring at the blank canvas.

There, starting at the bottom I can see the beginning of the joint in his elbow, the pale creamy color running up toward where his face would be, his arm obscuring half his face and making part of it hide in shadow. There is no need to make everything detailed…that's not what I want.

His eyes.

His eyes should be where everyone's gazes will go.

I take a quick breath, allowing my lungs to refill again since I had my sudden epiphany.

If I can take that pose, enlarge it, and copy it onto this canvas I can fully allow myself a want to do this painting.

It'll work.

But…I'll need an example…

Taking a deep breath I spin in my chair, sending my determined gaze to my partner, who hasn't started painting either.

"Gaara."

He tenses, letting his face snap toward me to send me a chill so strong that my body goes cold and I can't help but shiver.

I regather myself. "Go like this…" I order, running my hand through my bangs, then clutching them slightlyl halfway down my part. My other hand is supporting my elbow, steadying it as well as adding to the look.

Gaara leans forward, resting his elbows on his black jeans, allowing his arms to dangle off of his chair and into the space between his legs.

"No."

I knew he's say that.

How do I get him to position himself like that… I'll need to threaten… No, threats won't work on someone like him…but _bribery _might!

My face twitches as a distasteful expression forms a mask on my true intentions.

"Look, I don't want to do this anymore than you do, and I know you don't want me to be staring at you all week. All you have to do is go into that position _once_, allow me to take _one _good look at you, and I won't have to keep stealing glances at you all _week_."

His eyes shine with realization, making his eyes seem alive and bright for once, but as soon as it appears it fades away, returning to the dull dead frozen pupils I know him for.

Well? Is he going to except or not?

An aura wall stronger than he's ever shown before barricades himself from me, he himself turning away from me and giving me the cold shoulder.

Shit.

I knew he wasn't going to accept the deal.

Hold on…

All walls are just made of rock... and what's one thing that can destroy rock with ease?

A cunning grin makes its way across my mouth.

…of course.

There is always my secret weapon.

"Gaara." I call out again.

He doesn't move, but I can see his pupils gliding over to the corners to see me.

Even though you may be made of stone, oh great stoic Gaara, no stone can defeat the power of my jackhammer!

Let's see how you like this!

Ever so slightly I let my lip jut forward, my head tilting to the side as though I were looking at things from a different, innocent, angle. I lean forward so that I'm sitting like him, except that I'm crossing my arms over my stomach, letting them rest on my lap- folded in a very lady-like manner, making my hands seem brighter, as well as softer, than they did before.

My eyes are pleading, but not too much.

Each move has been so precisely calculated so that I will be doing the puppy pout…but he won't be realizing that I am!

Gaara seems unmotivated.

Come one…just look at me a bit longer…just a bit more.

There!

Something just flickered across his eyes again, though this was so fast that I couldn't even tell what emotion it was.

"If I do this, you won't look at me in this class for the next week, right?" he clarifies, his monotonous deep voice not betraying any emotion.

I nod once.

"We have an agreement then."

With that he lifts his pale hand toward his face, placing his other hand below it to rest his elbow on. Ever so slowly he allows his hand to run through his bloody hair, making the strands spread like the Red Sea.

I try to keep from blushing.

When he does that…he looks kind of…hot.

No.

Bad, bad Sakura.

Though he may be hot he is a madman, and said madman wants to rip out your heart and…most likely…eat it.

I resist the urge to grimace so instead I look at him intently.

The arm in shading his face, just like I had hoped it would…but it still seems…off. It's not that he's not the right type of person to get the feel I want…maybe he just needs to adjust a bit. There's no way he would be able to tell when he's at the right pose though…

I stand up, walking over to him to get a closer look.

His eyes follow me, yet he doesn't move his body.

He must really not want me to look at him.

For some reason I find that thought quite irritating.

Red hair is perfect for the image in my head and his is so much like blood that it's almost scary. Then again, if it was any other way I might not have had such a brilliant idea to base his pose off of.

How will I fix things though? It has to be exact or I won't get the affect I want.

I feel my fingers cupping my chin, an old habit I'd accumulated after years of painting, letting my arm support my elbow. Perhaps this is the reason I thought of him doing that pose?

Walking around him, I view him from one side and then another. He doesn't seem to mind that I'm observing him. In order to get the true feel I have to get him from all angles.

His eyes will be the most difficult. In real life they're ominous, threatening, yet they give you the feeling that you want to drown in them. I bring my eyes to his, soaking up every aspect about them- the way they shine, the way the steal some of the light and never letting it go, they way they make him look so alone, so sad, yet wise and intelligent, as though the whole world has been placed on his shoulders and he just bears the pain without screaming out. And those rings... Being both incredibly dark, yet they appear to be so natural, so complementing with his complexion that he must have had his eyeliner custom made. That's when I realize it. Those deep dark rings that surround his eyes aren't eyeliner. They're…

My eyes widen slightly.

The rings around his eyes are sleep rings.

Is he… an insomniac?

I manage to tear my eyes away from his again, now wanting to observe his eyebrows. At first, I think that they're a different color form his hair, leaving me to think he dyed it, but that thought is soon shattered. His eyebrows are as red as his hair, but they're so fine and thin that they look a lot like the color of his skin, making them seem nonexistent if you're not paying attention.

I crouch down into a squatting position, making my eyes level with his chin.

His skin is incredibly smooth. There isn't any sign of oils or pimples of acne at all, almost as if he were created from a painting itself. His aura is cold and bitter, which means I should use more blue than I do green.

"I need to adjust you a bit…" I warn.

Not waiting for an answer I gently grab hold of his chin, the coldness of it surprising me a little, tilting it downward at a greater angle, and then to the side, not even a centimeter, but I can still see the differences.

His eyes glare down at me, but he's not shifting so he must be able to handle this amount of contact, so I continue.

I stand up; yet lean at an angle so that I can keep a good eye to eye level with him.

I can do this!

* * *

_**Gaara's POV**_

I watch her.

Stalk her.

One wrong move and she's dead.

Her hand comes toward my face and I want to flinch away, but I can't do that. If I do she'll have to start over, and that means more skin to skin contact, which I _don't_ want. She grabs my wrist, using it to make my hand run through my hair even more.

Her skin is incredibly warm, and each of her touches leaves my mine with a burning feeling.

She brings her hand toward my arm now, placing it on the inside of my arm and pushing against it slightly, making it move mere millimeters from where it was.

Somewhere in the back of my mind is the vague urge to just slam her face into the sharp corner of my easel and be done with it, but that feeling is overpowered by something else… something stronger.

She continues shifting me in slight ways: A shift of the knee here, a shift of the arm there. It's all rather annoying if you ask me, I mean, what difference does it make if she changes it just a little bit?

Whatever.

Let her have her OCD moment. I'll be sure to pay her back for this soon enough, and that payback is promised to bring pain and blood.

I inwardly smile.

I wonder what her face would look like contorting into one of pain.

I can almost imagine it.

Her mouth would open slightly, soft moans escaping her lips as the pain slowly comes. It would be little at first, irritating and annoying; like little needles poking her. Then it would start to increase. Pressure would start to build inside her organs, causing them to constrict and tense, making her body spasm and her lungs burst into beautiful screams. She would roll on the ground, tossing and turning, trying to make the pain stop by force, but nothing would work.

I'm really getting into my fantasy now, imagining her pink hair swaying around her in waves as she collapses onto the floor, obscuring her sweating face and sticking to her skin in the heat. Her skirt rising up, showing her lustful bleeding legs; the blood rolling down them like priceless pearls… Then her eyes…

Yes.

Those beautiful emerald eyes- the sacred gems that men hunt until they die... They would be shining, reflecting the arousing red that covers and smears her naked skin. The metallic smell of it would fill her sense, driving her mad. Soon the shining would be replaced by fear. Fear of death. She would know it's coming, and be terrified. Watering, her stunning eyes would overflow with salty tears, painting her face in such a beautiful look that the gods would elongate her suffering just to see it for a longer time.

Her mouth would part even further, her soft luscious lips releasing even more screams, begs of mercy, bribes to live, threats if Death refuses her desperate offers, and when those fail she will cease to scream. That sound that no one in the world can imitate will be gone, and she will choose to live the rest of her death in silence, letting pants of hot breath replace the screams and moans.

And then…

"I'm all done, you can relax now."

Wha-

I awaken from my fantasy of her, suddenly finding myself staring up at her, my arms tiredly dropping down to rest on my leg.

"Sorry if it was so traumatizing, but as I promised, I won't look at you again in this class for the whole week, so rest easy okay?"

She spins around, walking away to return to her easel.

I watch her.

Her long hair dangles down past her waste, swaying back and forth with each step, her hips leading its movement.

_Blood._

_Pink._

_Dying._

_Sakura._

_Screams._

_Emralds._

_Red._

_Bleeding flesh._

_Skin._

_Moans._

I get the vague feeling that my pants are tightening, but that doesn't matter. Nothing matters, all that matters is the god-like power of her blood!

My breathing comes out in ragged pants and heavy breaths, the images filling my mind once more, seducing me into madness.

My breathing starts getting quicker and quicker, more painful and exciting as my lungs start to scream at me to breathe more slowly. Soft sounds of my possessed laughter start to fill the air around me; small snickers of proof of my deranged madness.

I bring my arms around me, hugging myself, holding myself, trying to encase this feeling, never wanting to let it go.

This feeling with such intensity that it makes me tremble in excitement…

This feeling that is more pleasurable than sex…

This feeling that makes me feel like I'm alive…

_I want it!_

* * *

**So? What did you think? **

**Please tell me your thoughts on this chapter, cuz this is the chapter I want them the most on. I think I got Gaara down to a tee…I think…**

**Hoped you liked it! **


	11. It Rhymes With Dying

_**Who ever invented school was a stupid torture-loving bastard!**_

_**That is all.**_

* * *

_**Sakura's POV**_

I lay here, my small body against the hard vastness of the cement.

It is after school now, the students are still scurrying about to their rides and clubs, completely oblivious to my makeshift bed.

I like it this way.

Humans run about hurriedly trying to get as much done in a day that they possibly can. Soon it becomes a routine as well as a burden causing the person to despise what they do. However, because it has become a routine they cannot live any other way, so instead of hating the routine they hate life.

It was a suicidal move to begin with.

The sun is warm against my skin, making me almost sleepy.

Can they feel it, those routine students rushing through life, or are they oblivious? Or even worse…have they neglected to notice and have forgotten there is such a beautiful feeling altogether?

For their sake, I hope it is not the last.

I open my eyes, temporarily blinded by the bright brilliance known as the sun.

I smirk.

Do not worry, my dearest sun, I will not try to challenge your glory this day. Shine all you want, I have fully acknowledged your beauty, but in return would you please shine this day…for me?

The sun does not answer my simple request.

Is it jealous? Threatened? Or does it perhaps think itself too highly and wise to be associated with a lonely human who's life cannot last even a hundred years.

Unfortunately the sun has ruined my mood and I no longer wish to be bathed in its brightness.

My body aches of stiffness as I suddenly demand that it move for me.

_HONK! HONK!_

Hmmm?

I pivot my aching neck slightly -just slightly- to discreetly look toward the annoying driver honking, without anyone knowing I was looking.

What can I say? I'm curious.

Looking around I see a jumble of things. Fast walking students, speeding cars, couples holding hands, couples locked in mad make-out sessions, geeky students cramming as much homework as they can into their backpacks…

Must be nothing…

My eyes shut, caging my view into darkness.

It's relaxing, lonely, and bearable.

Why don't humans just sleep everyday? Encased in darkness, never left with the worries of what the light reveals…

Sleeping is just so…

_HONK! HONK! HONK!_

"Damn it all!" I hiss, fully giving up on the nap I was hopefully waiting for.

Throwing my hands to the ground I thrust myself upward, landing on my feet with a slightly painful motion, one I'm used to since I lack the patience to take the time to stand up properly.

Sighing, I begin my treacherously boring walk toward the parking sidewalk by the parking lot to begin my step-by-step journey to "home."

A light breeze catches my hair, tossing it lightly into my face. Running a black finger-nailed hand through it I manage to hold it down, but in doing so I find something very…disturbing.

With each step I take the car behind me, a well cared for black limo, trudges after me with almost the same speed, but still gaining on my person.

A small laugh makes its way out of my lips.

Ha! A black limo following _me?_ Sakura, girl, you need to get a hold of yourself. This school is FILLED with spoiled rich kids that take limos to and from school. (This is where that annoying little voice of mine goes all **"YOU'RE A SPOILED RICH KID TOO!"** to which I reply _"At least I'm not stuck up about it!"_) So what if one just HAPPENS to be following you for the last thirty steps doesn't mean a THING! There's probably just a really bad case of roadblock so lines are forming and that limo is just patiently waiting for it's turn to reach the exit…

Yet for the next twenty steps the same thing happens, making a slight dread of denial fill my thoughts, shattering the hope my previous theory brought me.

Slightly aggravated, I speed my steps to a slight jog.

The car goes faster with me.

_What the hell? Stalker!?_

_HONK! HONK!_

"Sakura, get in the car!"

Sasuke's voice?

Looking back again I see that the limo has the back window rolled down, revealing the very displeased face of my "brother" glaring back at me.

"Get in the car!" he repeats impatiently.

Then I answer. Whether it was out of disgust or teasing I have no idea. Whether it was sarcastic or a challenge, I do not know. All I _do _know is the familiar, yet strange, sound of my own voice speaking these two childish words.

"No way."

Then I began to run.

* * *

"Excuse me! Out of my way, please! Coming through! MOVE!" I yell in excitement, dodging random students that were getting in my way.

Dashing across the sidewalk and back onto the green lawn of the school grounds a nearly-forgotten feeling returns to me.

What is it? This emotion…

My heart, it's beating so fast…

My mind…it feels so light and clear.

In fact, ALL of my senses are pinpoint… it's almost as though…it feels like… It's just…

Exhilarating!

The other students, they're watching me. Is it awe they feel? Is it admiration glistening in their eyes? Are they inspired by my rebellious magnificence?

I glance behind me again to see if I am still being pursued.

I am.

A true smile makes its way to my face.

Still willing to follow me? Even this far? Fine! Let's make it interesting then, shall we?

_Turn here! _I demand of my feet, my whole body swerving at a near 90 degree angle, making my bolting run directed strait for a metal picnic table occupied by a few freshmen.

"Pardon me!" I yell in an ecstatic trance. Pushing off the ground, hard, I kick myself up onto the cold metal of the table, landing with my feet paired and planted.

Nailed it!

"Wha-? Hey! What the hell are you going!? Are you insane!? Look out!?" The freshmen cry out startled.

I narrow my eyes.

They're startled now? Just wait!

Picking up speed, and fast, I make it to the end of the table, lunging off the very tip of it into a spring-filled flip, once again landing on my feet.

This feeling…this course of action…

It's like flying! It's defying gravity! Defying time! It's…it's…

It's like being God!

A laugh like one possessed fills the space around me.

It's not terrifying. It's not insane. It's not criminal. It is not the laugh of the one who knows true pain.

It's euphoric!

Swelling through my chest, creating pressure behind my breasts, and then exploding in a burst of sweet sound out of my mouth.

Laughing is a natural high!

Now the only thing that would make this better would be if…

I turn around, fully, pivoting on my right foot elegantly.

YES!

They're still following!

This couldn't be any better!

I turn around again. That's when I see it.

I smile even wider.

Looks like things _can _get better!

Throwing off my backpack into the dew-painted grass I bolt even faster toward my newly found euphoric item.

I slow my pace soon, but only a little, as I try to yank off my shoes (which was slightly annoying since I hadn't the patience to undo all the laces) so I hobble, jump, and look like an idiot.

But my smile won't waver. Not even a little.

I discard the shoes, quickly yanking off my socks, running barefoot through the grass and onto the hard cement, a slight pain from each slap of contact my foot and the concrete meet at.

Now that there is nothing that I cannot discard, without stripping out of my clothes, I finally make it to my destination.

The school pool.

And not just any pool either.

It's a pool with a high board used for the school's divers.

Sure it felt like flying from jumping off that table, but from jumping off of a huge diving board…?

I test my luck, one last time.

Yup, still there.

The smell of chlorine and water fill my senses. Humid moisture form the heated pool make my skin tingle from the cold of the light wind. Sounds of girl chatting up in the bleachers and cheers from those watching the girls swim team doing their laps are intoxicating.

Luckily for me this school has two pools, one for the swimmers and one for the divers.

The diver's pool is not currently in use, leaving me free to disrupt the water without fear of injuring anyone.

I slow to a speed-walk once at wet cement (hey, safety first!) making my way to the large vertical ladder leading up to the top of the board.

A few gasps are emitted throughout the crowds from those who see me, the student in uniform, climbing up to the high board.

I don't mind.

An audience is always better.

Now, let me show you my wings…

* * *

The wind blows gently, yet she is firm, as though pushing me. Pushing me to move, to jump, to fall, to fly…

I, being the loyal subject of wind that I am, obey.

My foot takes a step forward, the cold sky-blue of the board making my feet go numb. I take another step, the same effect taking place, the same urge to jump filling me until it's almost unbearable.

"I can't…take it…any…more…"

Something in me snaps.

The wind comes rushing at me- no, not _at _me, _with_ me!- helping me fulfill that which I must do.

Before I even know what's happening I find my body charging toward the end of the board, it's welcoming edge getting closer, and closer, and closer-

In one fluid motion my body is floating into the air. As though by instinct my arms reach out as far as they can, each spread out by my side, acting like wings preparing for flight.

I close my eyes.

The pit of my stomach does a flip, the feeling of falling washes over me in a drowning sensation that I've missed.

Perception is what you make of reality, and reality is what you identify to be truth, and I believe…I believe that I can fly. Therefore, if the truth is that I can fly, then my reality is what I perceive it as, so if I perceive reality as a place without gravity and without time…

My body slowly turns, contorting my back into an arch to better free my wings. They glide out behind me, the air flowing past them as though in a long-waited-for embrace of recognition.

So that's it.

I've had wings all along…

I kick my feet at an angle to place them above my head, a complete vertical. Still spinning, I tuck my wings back to my sides, protecting them from the impact that is to come.

The next thing I feel is cold. A dark endless cold that consumes me- body and soul.

But…it's not that bad.

It's dark, and I'm alone, but it's peaceful here.

That is until the screaming from my lungs protest the peacefulness as a form of murder.

The surface of the water erupts into a blast of crystal droplets as I catapult upward.

Filling my lungs with much needed air as soon as I reach the surface, I relax a little and start breast-stroking my way over to the edge of the pool. The water is smooth and easy to maneuver through, so soon enough I am gripping the metal edge of the bar running along all the sides, and pull myself up onto the concrete once again.

I look around.

The crowd is looking at me (some still cheering for the swimmers because they never even noticed I was there or what a feat I had just accomplished -what with defying gravity and altering time and all) speechless.

Behind me is the jet black limo, unmoving, but still running (judging from the exhaust it's still releasing) the window is still rolled down, and Sasuke is still glaring, though I get the feeling that he's surprised. Surprised or horrified.

Looking down at myself I estimate the damage.

Clothes: completely soaked

Hair: a complete mess

Underwear/Bra: just as soaked as the others

Reputation: questionable

Reaction from Sasuke: Priceless

I give a sarcastic sigh and a rather loud answer to the order I'm sure Sasuke will demand once again.

"Aw! I'm all wet! I couldn't _possibly _get into such a nice, clean, _dry_, limo with you."

He must have heard me (even though he was further away than I thought his hearing range was) for the window rolls up, concealing his profile, and the car soon starts driving away.

That's when it hits me.

Aw shit! How the fuck am I going to get home now! Sure I could walk but that would be a cold freaking walk home! How could I have lapsed in my calculation! How could I have-

"OI! SAKURA! SAKURA PRINCESS!"

Princess?

Who would call me princess, especially in such a loud, annoying, childish, familiar voice?

AH!

I hit my clenched hand against my palm as proof of my brilliance.

"Naruto!"

Spinning toward the direction of the sound I see him. He, in all his blonde glory, is sitting on his bike, which was under the shade of a maple tree by the picnic table, proudly showing his muscles by lifting the heavy lump-that-is-my-backpack (which he had so kindly picked up for me) as well as placed my knee-high boots and socks on the table right next to him. A big goofy grin plastered to his face as he waves wildly at me.

I can't help but smile and wave back.

* * *

"Hey, thanks." is all I say once I had made the jog over to him.

He looks away slightly, a tint of red spreading across his face making his tan skin seem paler. "S' no problem." His hand goes up to his scarred cheek and scratches it slightly.

Aw, he's embarrassed.

I guess he's not _so_ bad.

My thoughts are interrupted by a giant drop of water dripping down from my hair and sliding down my shirt.

That's right…I'm still wet.

Why can't I just stay dry for once, seriously…

Pulling my long hair back, I begin to wring it out, letting the droplets of water fall onto the dry earth. I flick my hands a bit, shaking off the excess water from them, then continue drying off by wringing out my clothes.

Placing my leg onto the bench of the picnic table for support, I bundle the edges of my shirt up to my bra, encircling the material unto itself. This method obviously works because soon it feels as though rain is pelting onto the bare skin of my exposed leg, dripping its way down my shin toward my dirty feet.

"So troublesome…"

I let my foot return to the earth, this time grabbing the hem of my skirt and bundling just a portion of it up to my thigh, squeezing it tightly and wringing it out.

More water dripping to the ground.

A weird sensation comes over me…kind of like a creepy feeling you get when you're being stalked…

I look toward my side where the sensation is the strongest.

I meet eyes. But they're not looking at me. They're looking at my legs, in between my thighs to my exposed undergarments.

I glare.

The eyes don't seem to notice, for they work their way up, this time to my chest.

Damn it, I _knew _water and white don't mix.

Feeling almost…violated, I do the only sensible thing one in my position can do without beating the violator to a bloody pulp.

"Ahem." I sound, clearing my throat in a rather annoyed manner.

Finally, the blue eyes meet mine, though they seem almost ashamed…and afraid. "Oh…hi." he says nervously.

I send an aura of killer intent into my glare.

Naruto gulps. "I'm sorry! I can't help it!" His shaggy hair falls over his eyes as he cringes, getting ready for me to hit him.

"Ahahaha!" someone laughs.

"Ahahahahaha!"

It takes me a while to figure out that the one who's laughing is _me!_

"What are you being so sensitive about? It's not like you touched me or something." I continue to laugh at him, toning it down just a little when I see the slight hurt in his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm only laughing because the situation is kind of ironic."

A gold inquiring eyebrow raises, as though to question me further.

I blush slightly.

The only reason I found it ironic was because the same thing happened with me and Sasuke earlier… Naruto was just more open about it.

"Hey, do you think you could give me a ride home?"

A shocked look emits from his face, yet it still remains kind. "Sure!"

* * *

"Sorry, am I getting you wet?"

I look at the back of Naruto's head, watching his sun-kissed hair get tossed around from the wind. He's peddling his bike pretty fast, making the wind catch everything we say so we have to speak loud just to be heard.

Luckily he has the type of bikes with pegs, so he gets the seat, and I stand on them, using his shoulders as a grip. I was a little scared of riding this way at first…I never had before… But I guess it's not so bad. You just have to know how to keep your balance, but I suppose it helps that my boots (which I was smart enough to put on, God forbid I ride on the pegs barefoot) have a bit more of a grip than normal shoes.

"Nothing I can't handle." he replies, a cocky tone to his voice.

I sigh.

It's an awkward thing, talking to the back of someone.

"So, what were y-" my voice was cut short when I was thrown upward.

"AH!" I yelp, clutching onto Naruto in fear of being thrown off the bike entirely. The front wheel comes crashing down onto the sidewalk, swerving slightly at the impact. Muscles tensing slightly in order to regain control of the bike, he manages to somehow keep it from crashing.

"Are you okay!?" he demands, a near frantic scream. "Damn these bumpy roads!"

"I'm fine."

I get the feeling I sounded a bit more pitiful to him than I would have liked.

Now it's his turn to sigh.

"Sorry about that, I guess I was going a little too fast…" he slows down as though in apology.

"Really, it's fine." Yet I still can't help but grip tighter to his shoulders than before the bump.

Awkward silence...again. I should really say something.

"So, Naruto, what were you doing by the pool?"

Brilliant. I bet _nobody _saw that question coming.

"By the pool… Oh, I was going to meet Gaara."

"Gaara? He's a swimmer?" I didn't even try to hide the disbelief from my voice. Gaara and Speedo just don't seem to fit in the same sentence.

I cringed at the mere _thought _of that.

A loud laugh interrupts the horrifying images flooding in my mind.

"Gaara? A swimmer? Never going to happen. He isn't a fan of revealing skin, plus he hates swimming. He comes from Suna after all. All desert there. Must not like going out of his comfort zone."

Confusing…

"Then why would-"

"His sister."

"Temari?"

"Yep, she's a varsity swimmer. One of the best on the girl's team."

"Wait a minute, but isn't she from Suna too?"

"Hold on now, I said _Gaara _didn't like going out of his comfort zone. I never said _anything _about Temari."

"You make Gaara sound so dull."

A snickering laugh erupts throughout the silence.

"What? What's so funny?"

He stopped laughing.

"I guess it's not really funny when you think about it. It's just… Temari is so wild and unexpected that she makes _everyone _seem boring."

Oh, I caught that.

"So you mean you don't think Gaara's dull?"

I feel his body tense beneath my hands.

"Something wrong."

"Look, Sakura, here's a word of advice. Usually everyone just stays away from him. He _likes _it that way, but now that you have to be around him all the time for the partnered project… Just…just…"

"Just…what?"

"Do _not _make him mad." he nearly snaps.

I'm slightly taken back.. His voice wasn't cruel, there was just a harsh type of edge to-

The bike stops moving.

"Something wrong?" I ask hesitantly.

Before I know it Naruto had already swiveled himself around, facing me on the seat of the bike, a look in his eyes that made me almost afraid.

"What's wrong? Naruto? You okay?"

My hands are in front of me, unsure whether to reach out to comfort him, or if they should clench themselves and get ready to attack.

Two warm hands are placed on me shoulders, clutching almost painfully into my skin.

His blue eyes are bright, but not in the happy sense, they're fearful…devoted…and sad.

"Naruto what's wr-"

"It's not his fault."

"Wha-"

"Gaara, you need to be careful around him. He doesn't mean to do the things he does, it's just that sometimes he can't _help _it. If you ever see Gaara angry, if you ever see him in a way that makes you scared of him, even for a second, you need to run. You need to run as fast as you can. Understand?"

I sit there, stunned.

"Sakura, I like you, but not even I can stop him sometimes. Promise me that you'll run. Please!"

I nod my head, more to appease him than to actually agree to what he was asking of me.

A look of relief floods over his face.

"That's good. Sorry if I scared you. I just needed to make that point clear."

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. Besides…"

"Eh?"

I tilt my head to the side, plastering an obviously fake smile onto my face.

"What makes you think he's the only person to be scared of?"

* * *

**Okay, I'm typing this on my laptop and the thing is shit and doesn't let me use the spell check option, so if there are any mistakes I'm sorry. I tried skimming through it but sometimes I miss them.**

**SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**I tried to make it longer to atone, but I don't know if it's as long as the others, shorter, or the same.**

**SOOORRYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!  
**


	12. Google is God

**I do not own Google, or Naruto. I do own my ridiculous fandom-ness for Gaara though.**

**Gaara is more…not insane…in this chapter. I made him calmer just because I was too lazy to get all "in depth" plus it wouldn't really fit the chapter.**

**Enjoy!

* * *

  
**

_**Gaara's POV**_

_I can't believe I'm doing this._

The bright glowing screen of my computer stares back at me, illuminating the darkness of my room with a faint light. I glare at it. It counters with a glare of its own.

At least it has personality.

That's when I remember what I needed the computer for, the stupidity…the very haunting pathetic standpoint of it…

Yet my fingers start typing into the Google search engine the two fateful and embarrassing words.

**Sakura Haruno.**

_I am not doing such an embarrassing thing for no reason. My grade depends on it._

A snort makes its way into the silence of the room, proof that the sheer ridiculousness of the previous thought has turned my body against my mind.

_**Why should you give a fuck about grades? They're only pointless standards that lowlife people set to make themselves feel important. What difference does it make if you pass or not? Will that feed you? Will it get you laid? Everyone is all going to die in the end. Why not show that to them that truth in a mass of blood? Wait, you're too much of a coward to even do such a simple thing as that.**_

My eyes narrow.

That damned voice has come back again. I thought I had gotten rid of it a long time ago through pain and sweat. I should call those bastards in white and demand my money back, or at least burn their facility down.

Wait, I already did that.

A rare smile carves its way onto my face.

My mind wanders for a while, spacing out, focusing, contemplating who would die if there was ever a school shooting (which I would never do -that's for losers, I would need to feel their blood drain on my hands and watch the lights from their eyes fade, aka a knife)

_**Why are you so interested in that Sakura girl? Of course I could understand, you're a healthy boy, and she just happens to have a ridiculously nice ass and the biggest tits I've ever seen. You've been fantasizing about fucking her haven't you?**_

_You shut up!_

That's the only counterattack possible. After all, what he says is true, no matter how you look at it. I have imagined her…and me, but I won't feel guilty for it.

I have nothing to be ashamed of.

I have nothing to lose.

After all, I wasn't imagining love. I was imagining lust.

Snickering sick enough to make the dead shudder erupts somewhere from within the walls of my mind.

_**Of course you wouldn't be thinking about love! Who in this world could possibly love **_**you**_**! You are the accumulative emotions of wrath, lust, gluttony, greed, pride**_**, **_**sloth, and envy. Your very **_**existence**_** is a sin and Hell will welcome you with open arms! You may as well start earning your way now, beginning with that girl. I feel almost happy. You'll know no greater sex than that one. Trust me. She wouldn't consent to it, no one would- not with you, so you'd have to forcibly take her. And she'd fight. Oh would she fight! She'd claw at your back, breaking the flesh and drawing blood. She'd bite too…she'd bite hard. Her screaming though. **_If I didn't know any better I'd swear I just heard him give off a animalistic purr. _**Just IMAGINE her screaming! Screaming because of **_**you**_** and what you'd be **_**doing**_** to her!**_

While I do the best I can to ignore him, and my sudden mood of arousal, I continue to stare at the two words identifying the woman I hate. I don't know exactly why I hate her. Perhaps it's her strong will, or her lack of fear when I try to make her leave me alone. No. I hate her because she's a liar. She acts like she's tough. She acts like she's strong. She does not know pain. She does not know loneliness. She does not know what the feel of blood is like. She may find me intimidating now, but when my real self is shown she will run away screaming, just like all the others. She is weak. She is an actor. I hate liars, and because she is a liar I hate her. I will scare her. I will terrify her. I will torture her. I will make her bleed. I will make her vomit. I will kill her. I will make her regret ever acting like such a tough woman when she is only a coward. I will make her regret ever being alive. I will make her look into my eyes as I drain her of life. I will make her look into the void of my being and watch as she cries, begs, pleads for her life, as worthless as it is. And then I will watch her life slowly bleeding out, and for each cry, beg, plead…I will deny her. I will look down on her as a vermin, the scum of the earth, and I will refuse her. I will tell her no.

While those beautiful thoughts run through my brain, I sit here waiting, rather patiently -considering I've broken the last four of my computers because they were too fucking slow- for the related links to load. However, I am in a rather calm mood right now, so it's lifespan is a couple hours longer than usual.

Finally, it's up.

I smirk.

I'll show you that I'm not a coward, you damned Shukkaku.

My finger twitches, just enough to allow the arrow to click down on the enter button…

* * *

My eyes widen.

_What the hell?_

Before me are countless links. All of which have Sakura Haruno in either the title or the summary, all of which are nearly completely unrelated to each other.

Well shit! Of course there would be this many links. Sakura is an extremely common name…though Haruno isn't…

I growl.

Might as well just click and learn. After all, it's either this or _asking _her about herself.

Not way in hell am I going to do that!

The cursor trails over to the first link.

**The Prodigy to Defeat All Prodigies**

I click.

Before me is a long collection of newspaper articles from random dates and newspapers.

I start reading.

_**Child Genius Wins $5000**_

_Last month an unknown girl rocked the world as we know it. Sakura Haruno, age eleven, stunned the judges at the Creton's Benefit Competition when she proved to be the smartest girl their competition has ever seen with an IQ of 173, taking only second place to the infamous Shikamaru Nara whose IQ is over 200. Now she has once again shocked and astounded citizens by winning her fifth annual painting top prize, taking her Portrait of a Stranger all the way to Italy for the World Finals, earning her a grand total of $50,000, all of which she donated to small nonprofit organizations throughout the city of Tokyo._

My eyebrows raise at the familiar names, but I scroll down to the next article and continue on.

_**The Season of Sakura**_

_After being crowned one of the smartest females in the world, Sakura Haruno has shown us her undying passion as she wins one competition after another, leaving other said prodigies in the dust against her own brilliance. This week she left Hao Xing, China's promising young memory champ, in second place and earning her way to the finals. There she will be pitted against Jonathan Wesslington in the finals selection round in Washigton, D.C. Should she win that, she will make the rugged journey against the world's best, as well as the ever famous Uchiha brothers, Itachi and Sasuke, both of which are in the top ten of the season. When asked who they thought would win, fans of the tournament voted the Uchiha's to win, 2 to 1. Will she be able to beat those odds?_

I resist the urge to snort at the fact that the stuck up Uchiha's would be in such a geeky competition.

Scrolling down once again I continue to stockpile the information.

_**Stunning News from Washington**_

_The long awaited tournament of memory held in Washington D.C. was filled with large disappointment when the favorite to win, Sakura Haruno, did not make an appearance. Losing by forfeit, the champion of the night went to reigning champion Jonathan Wesslington. When asked why she did not appear, her mother declined to give a comment. Under further investigation it was found that she was hospitalized in New York on her way to the tournament will a fever of over 107 degrees. No need to worry, the doctors were kind enough to leave a report that, "She will be up and about soon enough, she just had an extremely bad wave of the flu." Our wishes of a speedy recovery go out to her._

_**Back in Pink**_

_After half a year of suspenseful waiting, Sakura Haruno has returned loud and proud, this time in the genre of gymnastics. The Child Prodigy has been taken under the wing of famous Olympic trainer Kakashi Hatake, and is set to debut in her first ever media televised competition of the sport. When asked what he thought about this Kakashi Hatake answered immediately and firmly, "This battle will be hers by a dominating landslide. She's one of the best gymnasts I've ever had the pleasure of training. You're going to piss your pants." The competition will be on channel 11, WCKM News, at 3:00 Pacific Time._

So then, that explains why Kakashi acted so weird when he first saw her name on the attendance list…

My forehead wrinkles in thought.

Are all of these the Sakura Haruno of our school? The last one had to be since the actions at school proved it, (what with her attacking Kakashi and nearly brutally killing him when she heard he was no longer a gymnastics coach) but she couldn't possibly be as well known as all this?

Heh!

Then again, only losers and geeks watch all of these brainiac competitions so it's not like anyone would know any of this anyway.

I run the cursor against the scroll bar, only to realize that that was the last article of the website. Sighing in frustration of having to find a different website for my information, I viciously click the _Back_ button to get back to Google's link connection.

The first thing that catches my eye are the four words I didn't expect to see.

**Gymnastics Accident Stuns Onlookers**

Curious, I click.

The screen flashes from white and gray to a red and black with a whole bunch of glaring eyes decorating the backround.

Immediately my attention is drawn to the video box at the center of the screen with the large _Play_ button located in the center of it. I decide to read the italicized words beneath it first.

_Totally unexpected outcome at the gymnastics completion when Sakura Haruno __**chokes**__ and injures herself too badly to continue. Kakashi was forced to eat his words and hundreds of people lost money when the betting rounds table turned. I LOST MONEY BECAUSE OF THAT __**BITCH**__!_

Choked?

Interested, I click play.

A girl with pink hair stands in the middle of the gymnasium floor. Her arms are placed above her, preparing for her routine. I immediately recognize her as Sakura. Music starts in the backround, a perky up-beat tune that makes me want to gag.

Typical gymnastics music.

My partner turns her head from side to side, her arms making coordinated swooping movements. The beat increases, she does a perfectly strait split jump.

I stare.

Sure a split jump isn't much…but they way she moves is just…wow…

A bass is added to the song and violins commence, and she charges, running full blast to the center of the blue flooring.

But she doesn't just run.

She flips gracefully, landing, immediately doing a hand spring combination, then finishing with a huge jump into the air, spinning wildly- yet incredibly beautifully, landing with both feet planted firmly onto the floor.

Her hands throw themselves up, her head tilts back and soon she is drowning in cheers of applaud and flashes of bright lights that I assume to be cameras.

Her leg stretches up vertically against her head without her arm even holding it, instead, they reach out to her fans at each side, then ever so carefully she spins, turning perfectly on the pivoting motion of her left foot. Normally this would be an OK type of move, but her hair (which in the video is only to her shoulder blades and tied back with a ponytail) flows elegantly against her form, yet far enough away to add to the effect of her spin.

It's stunning.

Another wave of claps erupt from the crowd as soon as she finishes.

With perfectly performed leaps she makes her way to the far corner of the floor, both feet once again firmly planted.

Her arms are at her sides, and she's taking in deep breaths.

The camera zooms in on her face a little, and though it's faint, you can see the concentration and determination in her emerald eyes.

They're on fire…burning with her need to win.

The music starts going into a suspenseful crescendo, and she moves.

Right away I can tell that something is wrong.

Her step seems delayed and against the beat of the music, a look of confusion and concern suddenly replacing her bright expression. This is soon shoved away and returns to it's normal mask of brightness.

The best is needed to be shown to the judges.

She continues, running forward, body turning just as elegantly as before, almost as though she were in slow motion or in some sort of water, all of her movements were just… I can't even explain it.

Turning ever so slightly again she prepares to do her combination handspring again. It's near the middle of her routine now and she's almost at the point where she needs to do a big move, an extremely big move judging by the sudden hushed audience, and only has one or two more handsprings left, turning in the air getting ready to land her current one when…

She's coming down just like she was before, perfectly controlled and exact, but this time when her feet touch the floor they do not stand firm, in fact, it seems as though she has no feet at all for her whole body just crumples to the ground.

As soon as she does the once silent crowd outbursts in a synchronized disappointed "Oh!" as though they had rehearsed it all together.

The music continues without her as she stays still on the floor.

Her torso starts moving, preparing to push herself off of the floor with her arms.

Something is wrong.

Majorly wrong.

Her face contorts, no longer hiding her shock or confusion. Only now it seem to be incredibly fearful.

Murmurs erupt form the crowd, as well as form people right next to the camera (for they are much louder than the others) as the realize that she is taking way to much time to get up.

Is she hurt?

Did she sprain an ankle?

No, she would at least try to stand if that had happened…

She leans forward, her hands running down the length of her legs, down to her feet.

She still doesn't stand.

The music is immediately cut off and a silver haired man is running out of the stands by the judges and onto the floor. It takes me a while to realize that this man is Kakashi, wearing a blue and white coaching jacket, one that matches Sakura's uniform.

He stays by her side, holding her as she clings to him.

The camera zooms in a little more.

Sakura is crying, large watery tears streaming down her eyes. Kakashi (who is almost unrecognizable without his mask on) is talking to her in a very serious matter. I try to read the lips, but all I can make out is something along the lines of "Can't move?"

Kakashi wraps his rather muscular arms- which is really strange because I always considered him to be a weaker man- around her form, swinging her legs carefully under his other arm so he carries her bridal style over to an area already preparing to take care of her injuries.

The cameraman must be running over to the scene because the video is jostling all around. Soon it's focused on them, merely a foot or two away from them, and this time I get an incredibly good look at what's going on.

Zoom is on full power right up to Sakura's tear stained face, with no signs of her calming down or stopping her crying. Only one phrase is escaping her lips, over and over again, as though her very life depended on it. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

The unfamiliar yet serious face of Kakashi is trying to reassure her, his familiar voice talking soothingly to her, "It's okay, it's going to be okay. This is not your fault. You hear me Chickie? This is _not_ your fault!" He rips his gaze away from her and glares demandingly at the medics surrounding them. "What's wrong with her! What happened! She should have nailed that landing, why didn't her legs work!"

An innocent medic woman, who looks quite worried, dares to answer him. "We're not sure. It appears to be paralysis but she doesn't have any spinal injuries, and even from a fall like that it would be extremely rare to even _get_ spinal injuries. I think we should get her to a hospital right away."

The camera points back at Kakashi and Sakura, who's still repeating her apologies again and again. Our English teacher hugs her closer, nearly crushing her against his chest. "Shhh. You're okay. It's okay. You're going to get better soon."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

His eyes look sad.

"Chickie, this is not your fault. I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at all. You just have to get better, okay?" He allows her to fall back a ways, just enough so that he himself can lean in closer and kiss her forehead.

The video stops, the _Play _button returning on the screen.

I lean back in my chair letting it all sink in.

HOLY SHIT!

* * *

Well, the sudden turn of events from the "information gathering" session have completely confused me.

Aggravated by this small fact I try to click back to the Google search engine as fast as I can.

A sound of a triple clicks comes to my ears, and I find myself at another link.

I growl.

Must have clicked on something else without noticing.

Damn.

That's when I see the headline.

**Sakura Haruno's Illness to be Called Sakura Syndrome**

Illness?

She's sick?

A strange emotion comes over me. It makes my stomach feel…hollow…and my mind goes blank. The sudden feeling that my blood is on fire fills my senses, yet my skin is as cold as ice…

_Further research is being done, but the source of this illness in located in the genetic material of the host itself. The first ever reported case belongs to Sakura Haruno, of Japan. Symptoms started out with her hair turning pink since birth. The illness then spread throughout her body's systems and have fused with other genetic material. This illness causes the muscles of the legs to uncontrollably, and randomly, give out. Under further investigation medical specialist Tsunade Godaime has found that there is no deterioration of the muscular tissue itself, but they become extremely numb and the brain's pulse waves can no longer have effect. Such episodes start with the victim becoming dizzy. This is a sign of the brain not sending out pulse waves as it normally does causing disorientation and confusion. The pulses are not fixed to a certain area point, so it is extremely dangerous of where and when the episodes occur. Should she be on the stairs an episode could occur suddenly, blotching out vision and causing sudden unconsciousness within a matter of seconds, which would lead to even greater damage form the fall. _

_Though it's little, there is a 7% chance that the pulse waves will change into one of the other major muscle workings, example the heart. Should such a thing occur, there is no guaranty that paddles or a defibrillator would restart and sustain the muscular function of the heart. Unless immediate professional medical attention is given from someone studying the case, the result would be death._

_Until such problems are identified, doctors need to be wary that when an episode occurs she has a special medication that must be immediately sent into her blood stream. Calcium has been found to strengthen the effective rate of the pills taken daily, as well as lower the frequencies of episodes and that is also the case for the shot. WARNING: The contents of the shot are a highly concentrated dosage of calcium, vitamins, and a specially made mixture of herbs made by Godaime herself. Should the shot be administrated the patient __**must**__ be unconscious. The solution of the fluid, when injected into the blood stream, causes immense pain and could cause cardiac arrest. Also, such high dosages of vitamins and calcium are extremely hard for organs to take, so the medication should not be administrated frequently or when without immediate need. Should there be continual use and her organs may cease to function._

_The naming of such an illness is due to the fact that the victim's hair turns a sakura shade of pink. That is a fact found under an in depth study of the patient. Anyone with such an illness needs to monitor what they eat, when they eat it, how much they eat, how much sleep they get, blood pressure, heart rate, weight, muscular strength, hallucinations, dizziness, pain, mood swings, contents of the blood, and how much medication they take daily._

_Because of a lack of patients with such an illness these monitored journals are extremely important source of research._

_Tsuande Godaime sends out medication once a month as a source of refilling. Another specialized doctor is to meet with the patient once a month for a more in-depth checkup._

_Medication is to be taken everyday at the same time. Side affects are almost immediate if the medication is not taken. Withdrawal effects include vomiting, dizziness, hyperventilation, severe stomach cramps, lack of consciousness, tiredness, disorientation, and/or hallucinations. Since side affects of the pills and symptoms of the illness are extremely close all actions of the patient must be taken into consideration and action for these effects are to be taken immediately._

I shove myself away from the computer.

You've got to be kidding me.

The one girl I hate more than anyone else is a care-case?

My pale hand reaches up toward my face, concealing my crazed eyes, my mad mind, and the insanity of my soul bubbling beneath the surface.

How's that for ironic?

The one person who can challenge me, the one person who can meet my glare, the one person I want to kill more than anyone…is pathetic.

It's funny.

My body begins shaking, and I don't try to conceal it, the sound, the action, the feeling, the _emotion_ coursing through me.

I throw back my head and let lose a loud barking laugh.

* * *

**Oh, and if it makes you feel any better, I started this chapter a LONG time ago... I just couldn't...finish it *hides***

**This one may have a few more mistakes than the last one, but it's because I'm tired.**

**I'll probably check it tomorrow since there's no school.**

**R&R please!**


	13. Eight Letter Word

**So, I updated. I will restate here, that I have edited a few things. Sakura is no longer Marriotte Rose. She just paints as a hobby. I also edited out the tape, it is now no longer there. ****I had originally had it where Lee had died and she had caught his death on videotape, but couldn't leave behind the only true evidence of his existance (er... something along those lines...) So, Yada Yada Yada, an emotional wreck and a couple break downs later... TADA! Bam! Video tape brought up!**

**NO.**

**Too many loose ends, too many things to match up, too many time consuming rereading, too much planning, too much work for a lazy procrastinating me!**

**So I'm basically just going to focuse on Sakura and her...er... problem.**

**Sorry for any inconveniences and/or confusion.**

* * *

**SAKURA'S POV**

"Of all… the ridiculous…" I groan, my voice an angry, exasperated, hiss. "Just a little… more…" I tug the pair of jeans upward with more force, adding a slight jump, trying to force them past my thighs and butt. It doesn't seem to want to budge to its rightful place.

I look over to the heaping pile that is the entirety of my walk-in closet, which is lying on the floor like a large fortress. The top of said fortress is completely blue, with one or two pairs of black and white; the discarded jeans of mine that have refused to be worn correctly. In fact, this makes the last pair of jeans that I have in my closet!

I've got to get these to fit!

I've got to!

"Argh!" I groan louder, bending my knees to see if that would help slide them up, but this too is futile.

Fine! I'LL JUST GIVE UP THEN! Fucking jeans…

Yet I try one last time, one more powerful tug…

"Ahhh!" I yelp, falling toward the ground, landing painfully with a loud enough _thunk_ to shake the chandelier in the room below me.

_"Sakura? Are you alright?"_ comes the muffled voice of Itachi from somewhere downstairs, having obviously heard my fall.

"I'm fine!" I call back loudly at the floor.

Fine… Am I fine?

My body refuses to move, too tired and annoyed to even twitch. Pink hair falls in my face, so I give an angry huff to blow it away, but it just falls back in my face again. My butt is hanging out of my jeans, none of which fit, all my bras are feeling too tight, and my underwear is just as tight as my bras. I am on the floor looking like a mess, and shouting at the carpet? AM I FINE!? AM I!?

And with great sadness, I decided that I am not fine. With great sadness…and fear. In fact, I'm terrified, because there is only one thing left to do…

I pull out my cellphone.

* * *

The sun is already setting beyond the horizon, painting the sky into an orange red glow. I makes the trees look ominous, their bark appearing to be black.

Any minute now…

"Are you hungry Sakura?" Itachi calls from the kitchen. I can hear water boiling and rice cooking. There is a spicy scent in the air that makes my mouth water.

He must be making curry.

My stomach rumbles at the thought of curry, the one food I have grown an addict to. I haven't had it for the longest time, and now that he's making it I can't help but feel an intense craving for it. Chicken curry is my favorite… I hope he's making that… But now is not the time for it; there are more pressing matters than food.

"I'm fine, thanks." I lie, feeling my stomach give a giant lurch in protest. My arm slams across it, shutting it up before anyone else could hear it.

I twiddle my thumbs, having to do something while I wait. My eyes wander around the living room, taking in the familiar sights with more detail. The couch I'm sitting on is a dark leather, kept in great condition, and big enough to sit three people. The carpet beneath it is a deep red, like blood was spilt everywhere; the aftermath of a massacre. I usually don't like red carpets, but it's soft. There are end tables placed next to each chair, each a rich wooden masterpiece. The painting above the vast stone fireplace is of two loons swimming across a vast human-less lake found between two mountains, the sun setting in a reddened glow behind them. Everything is a theme, with rich colors that compliment the painting. It all seems much more magnificent now that the sun is actually setting, matching everything in the room. I wonder if they bought the painting first and matched the room to it, or matched the painting to the room…

Behind me, the clinking and sizzling of a frying pan catches my attention. A soft voice starts along with the sound, a melody I somewhat remember, but can't quite place… Itachi is humming.

It's a nice voice.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" I ask him, turning around on the couch so I'm sitting with my knees against the back, my arms resting on the top.

"I guess it's kind of a hobby of mine," he says with a soft smile. He's mixing whatever is in the frying pan with curry powder. There are too many mouthwatering smells for me to tell what it is exactly.

I raise an eyebrow, but say nothing. Instead, I just continue to watch him cook. He takes it rather seriously, his black shirt and pants covered by a green apron, his hair tied back even tighter and higher away from his face than usual. He walks away from the frying pan, and over to the chopping board where there are an assortment of vegetables awaiting him. Grabbing a beautiful cutting knife, he lowers in and slices each vegetable so fast and precisely that all I can hear is a quick Chchchchch of the blade meeting the board, and the scraping sound of him using the knife to move them into a bowl. He seems to be done for the moment, and wipes his hands on a towel hanging on the oven handle.

He really is-

DIIIIING DOOOOONG!!!!!!

"I'LL GET IT!" I yell, scrambling over the couch and bolting toward the door, past the amused smirk of Itachi. Grabbing the cold handle tightly I swing the door open, revealing the thing I had been dreading.

"Ino!"

* * *

The girl before me is stunningly beautiful, much more so than I last remembered. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a perfected high ponytail, her bangs sweeping across the side of her face to give her an innocent yet mature look. Her body is thin and lean, not as curvy as mine, but a model type look, which she skillfully covered in name brand goods to make her look like a sexy goddess in front of any guy that might be looking, but one wouldn't be able to call her a slut. She had too much class for that.

She's wearing a low cut white blouse with ruffles to cleverly hide her lack of a bust, yet is still able to flaunt her creamy moisturized skin. A black skirt covers only a couple of inches below her hips, showing off her legs, but it is decorated with a large golden chain-link belt slanting at an angle from one hip down to the other, all topped off with the most expensive looking two-inch shoes I have ever seen.

Ino always was one who was able to pull off good fashion…

I give what I'm wearing a self conscious look.

Gray sweatpants, almost too big for me, a large baggy white T-Shirt with the logo of a warrior-producing dojo, and flipflops. This, and a couple others just like them, are the only things in the great and noble vastness of my closet that still fit me.

Looking back up at Ino, I find her staring at me, wide eyes, a look of disbelief on her face.

An accusing finger is shot up and pointing at me, much to my shock, her eyes a lit with fury. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO WITH SAKURA!" she bellows loudly, catching the attention of Itachi from back in the kitchen. He's now watching the two of us, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, with an amused expression on his face. "THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL SAKURA IS THAT CURVY! SHE DOESN'T HAVE CLOSE TO THAT BIG OF AN ASS!"

I run a hand through my hair, embarrassed, and give her a weak look in the eyes. "I know…" But silently, to myself, I let out a squeal of triumph.

**Ino admits I'm curvy! INO ADMITS I'M CURVY! She finally admits that I have a better body and a better ass than she does! **_**WUSHAW!**_

"You must be a Sakura-Look-Alike Robot! A cow in disguise!"

A cow?

As in "Moo?"

A cow!

"THAT'S REALLY FUNNY COMING FROM A PIG! INO-PIG!" I scream, launching myself at her and trying to land a good punch on her face.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A PIG, YOU BIG FOREHEADED COW!" she screams back at me as she lunges in return with a punch of her own.

My hit lands on her jaw just as her hit lands on mine. We both stumble backward, me into the living room, her onto the porch. Glaring at each other, we try to catch our breath, both of us ignoring the stinging of our faces and the small drizzle of blood that makes its way out of the corners of our mouths.

"Well," Ino says finally, she uses her thumb to wipe away the bit of blood by her mouth, and stands up strait, trying to look like she is completely unfazed. She pulls out a circular compact mirror from inside her shirt, which must have been hidden in her bra. Flipping it open, she takes a good look at her reflection. Sighing, she closes it, a defeated look about her at discovering the growing bruise against her pale skin. "I drove for three hours to get here after your call saying you were having a teenage crisis. Finally realized you needed my fashion sense, did you."

I use the back of my hand to wipe away the blood on me, and send her an accusing stare. "Three hours? It took us six to get here. You were speeding again, weren't you. Majorly this time. What if you got caught? You would loose your license this time!"

She waves her hand at me dismissively, closing here eyes like I'm just an annoying nuisance to her. "You said you were in a crisis. Besides, no one even lives out here. Like I would have hit anybody. Plus, my Aston Martin can go _way_ faster than those ugly cop cars can." She has a look on her face that makes me feel stupid for even asking, like what she was saying was obvious fact. "So, it appears you really are in a crisis. Is this what you call fashion?" Her hand waves over my apparel, with a wrinkling of her nose, as though I was unclean. "If that's the case, you're a hopeless cause. I may be a genius, but I'm not a miracle worker."

I feel the blood thudding in my head as my anger rises, making me feel like I'm boiling.

"No, Ino, my teenage crisis is that nothing in my closet fits besides this! Over the past two weeks my ass has grown too much and my boobs have gotten bigger by a whole cup size! I CAN'T FIT INTO ANY OF MY CLOTHES ANYMORE!

She gets a dumbfounded look on her face, her blonde hair only helping with the theory that she is, indeed, an airhead. My words finally sink in, and she lights up with a new excitement. Full of energy, she lets out a gleeful squeal. "Do you know what this means!?" she squeals again, clapping her hands happily in her excitement.

I already know the answer, but I dare to ask, clinging to the small little glimmer of hope that she won't say the dreaded eight letter word. "Don't tell me we have to go-"

"Shopping!"

* * *

**GAARA'S POV**

"Shopping?" I ask, both amused and horrified, though I doubt anyone would be able to notice either of the emotion in my voice.

"Yeah!" Naruto says loudly, a big wide toothy smile filling his face, "It's a school night, so we can't do much, but we're all so bored we have to do something! So, why not go shopping!?" he laughs now, clearly in awe of his stupid idea.

"And why would we do that?" Kiba demands, not able to understand why we, as guys, would enjoy going shopping.

"Sounds too troublesome to me…" Shikamaru agrees with a small nod of his head. Then again, everything was too troublesome for Shikamaru to do.

"Aw! Come on!" Naruto whines, "It'll be fun! We can go to the videogame store, or buy some Cds, and the food there is always good! Plus, think of all the hot girls that will go to the mall!" he grins perversely.

"I'M IN!"

I glare at my older brother. I've always hated him, just for the fact that he's so annoying. He's the kind of guy that always thinks with his dick instead of his head. Then there was the time I walked into the living room and he was watching porn on the flat-screen...

Is he that desperate?

I would rather stay here, sitting in this uncomfortable chair in my cramped little living room, than go anywhere with him.

But I'm bored.

I stand up, my hands shoved in my pockets, and I walk toward the door. Naruto, taking this as me accepting to come with him because I liked the idea, charges after me laughing his head off. "This is going to be so much fun!" he squeals, wrapping his arm around my shoulder in a friendly way.

I tense, my body rejecting the very concept of such a thing, but I don't shrug him off. Naruto is the one person I would consider a friend. Anyone else I would beat to a bloody pulp for even daring laying a hand on me, seeing us as equals. I prefer violence and blood over friendship and bonds, yet with Naruto, it has always been different.

"Maybe we can even land girlfriends!" I hear him say excitedly, his voice echoing with his hope.

I take a look at him, his orange "I Love Ramen" shirt, and his uncombed hair. I say nothing and continue walking, letting him cling onto that hope for a bit longer.

* * *

"Hey! Hey, Gaara! Look what I got!" Naruto yells loudly from halfway across the mall, making me have to turn around to see him. The only reason I know it's him is for the fact that he has the loudest voice I've ever heard, and the yellow and orange blob running toward me is quite unmistakably him. He reaches me, a mere three paces away, leaning down so his arms are resting on his knees so he can catch his breath from his run over here. Once he does, he looks at me with his big grin, holding out something circular and see through, with a big fuzzy grayish-brown blob in the middle. I stare at him, not quite believing what I'm seeing. "It's a hamster!" he calls proudly holding up the ball higher so I can see it more clearly, "I'm gonna call him Onbu!"

"Why would you call him that?" I ask, not seeing where he came to the conclusion of such a retarded name.

Suddenly, Naruto's eyes get watery, the hand holding the hamster lowers, his lip quivers, and for a single moment I'm afraid he's going to cry. It's like I said no to him after he asked for a cookie, or kicked his dog or something. "I thought it was cute…" he says quietly, his lip still trembling.

"Hn," I say, looking away to try and brush off the guilty feeling growing in my chest, "Do what you want." I say awkwardly.

This seems to be enough to cheer him up because his eyes get all shiny and bright and he's plastered another big grin on his face. "It is cute, isn't it!?" He starts to talk to the hamster now, poking the ball in adoration saying things like "cute" and "new home" and "best friends". I take this moment to try and figure out where exactly I said the name was cute, but come up with nothing.

"Hey guys," comes the lazy drawl of Shikamaru.

Both Naruto and I turn and watch as he, Kiba, and my brother walk up to us. They seemed to have been enjoying themselves, for Kankurou has about three or four full bags in his hands, and Kiba has just as many.

"What'd you guys get?" Naruto asks, pointing at their multitude of bags innocently. Kiba and my brother exchange a perverted look, which almost makes me shudder. They each hold a bag out and show us the black logo of a store called **Screaming 'O' **with the O appearing to be melting into liquid. Naruto stares at it, not quite taking in what it means, and finally decides to risk the question, "What kind of store is that?"

I, for a brief moment, feel a slight dread, and my face almost heats up at the very question.

He didn't know what it was?

Sending a glare to my brother, I threaten him with a torturous castration if he tells the blonde what that kind of store is. Kankurou telling him was the worse possible outcome, even more so than Kiba telling him. He seems to read my threat and keeps his mouth shut, but pulls out a DVD with a pair of girls on the cover wearing only thongs and covering each others breasts, each wearing cat ears as though they were crowns. The title is large reading "Pussycats 2: Double the Sex Kittens and Twice the Pussy" Kiba decides he needs to show what he got too, and reaches into his bag and pulls out a hardcore skin magazine, with a naked girl on the cover with her legs spread apart toward the viewer.

"Limited Edition." he grins excitedly, quite happy with his find.

Shikamaru sighs, and pulls out a key chain with a black bar and green letters saying "**I Make the Girls Scream 'O'**" from his pocket. He looks rather annoyed at the fact that he took it out, and says under his breath, "The cashier guy kept staring at me. It was too troublesome not to buy something…"

I look at Naruto now, not quite sure what I should be bracing myself for. His blonde hair is more outstanding, now that his face is bright red, his eyes wide, taking in the picture on the magazine. His mouth is hanging open in shock, though he slightly closes it then opens it, as though he's trying to speak, but isn't able to.

"Naru-"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" a girl screams angrily, breaking me from finishing what I was going to say. We all turn to the voice, which is only a store down from us down the main isle. The girl has long blonde hair, a white top, black skirt, and is trying to show off to any guys who might be watching by revealing a whole lot of leg and a whole lot of chest. Both her arms are carrying two large bags. She's screaming at another girl, who isn't dressed much better. The other girl has her head covered by a black beret, a black shoulder shirt, and she must be wearing really short shorts or a short skirt because most of her legs are visible, but it's impossible to tell because the girl is holding what must be about fifty large bags in her arms. She says something to the blonde one, but I can't hear, but it must have been something insulting, because the blonde explodes. "IMPOSSIBLE! SO HELP ME GOD I WILL MURDER YOU IF YOU DO!"

Everyone seems to be staring at the two girls now, the last line of hers even catching the attention of a security guard who seems to be contemplating walking over and breaking the two up. He's a very fat man, and is busy shoving a jelly-glazed doughnut and a extra large carbonated beverage down after it. He must have decided his food needed to be dealt with first instead of two girls threatening to kill each other.

"Look at that blonde one," I hear my brother moan, "I bet she's a great fuck."

She must have super hearing, or a sixth sense of knowing when someone finds her attractive, for the blonde turns around and faces us, a big smile spreading across her face. Nudging the girl next to her and grabbing her arm, she starts walking over to us, the second girl being dragged reluctantly behind her.

Great. Two sluts are making their way over to us, and two of us are the biggest perverts in the mall. A day of "fun" is now going to be a day of scoring with a pretty girl. All they're going to do is talk perversely to each other and compliment nonexistent features. Why did I even come?

"Hi," says the blonde one, looking strait at me, a seductive look on her face, at least, one she thinks is seductive. It might have been better, if it wasn't for the big bruise on her chin. I almost give a disgusted snort. The second one seems to be uncomfortable, but she's very good at not showing it.

"Ino," the friend scolds annoyed. She must not like hitting on strangers. "Come on, you're only here for a day or two. Don't ditch me to go hook up with some stranger."

There's something about this girl… Something seems familiar… I'm positive I've heard that voice before…

"What's up with you? We used to do this all the time! Nothings wrong with having a little fun!" the one called Ino growls at the friend, "You need to live a little, Sakura."

"Sakura?" Kiba asks startled, the others looking at her in shock.

The girl looks up, green eyes scanning over the faces of our group, her mouth dropping in horror, her eyes widening in recognition, her lips forming two words to state her situation.

"Oh, shit!"

* * *

**SAKURA'S POV**

Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit! FUCK!

"Hey guys," I say, trying not to sound as freaked out as I am at the moment.

Ino blinks a bit, stares at the guys, and then at me. "You know them?" she asks in disbelief, "You know such hot guys and you didn't TELL ME!?" She gives a dramatic stomp and clenches her fists. A safe tantrum. I'm thankful. With my arms full at the moment, I don't think I'd be able to take a full blown Ino Tantrum. "You TRAITOR!" she finishes.

"We're just classmates," I reply with a sigh, still not believing that such a beautiful girl could be so immature. "Now will you please calm down."

"Don't try to change the subject! You are a traitor! You have betrayed our friendship and the bond of our memories! You are horrible! You are-"

"So, what are you guys doing here?" I ask my classmates, completely ignoring the ranting of my best friend.

"Well, we were bored, so I thought _'Hey! The mall! There's food, games, and babes!''_" Naruto laughs loudly.

I raise an eyebrow at the last quote, but say nothing, almost enjoying the energetic blonde. Even if he is an idiot, he's rather fun to watch.

Speaking of which…

I turn to the others and glare at them menacingly. All of them are staring at me like I'm some sort of freak. "What!?" I demand.

"You have a lot of shit," Kiba states simply, gesturing toward the 22 bags I have somehow managed to keep hold of.

"Yeah, well," Ino says happily, slapping my shoulder rather painfully, "When you have a cow, you might as well use her."

Kankurou lets out a loud laugh.

The vein in my head is pulsing in anger, my grip on the bags gets tighter, and I turn to my friend furiously. "What was that, you pig!"

Ino is taken back by my insulting counter, and gets a throbbing vein just like I do. "Pig? Pig!? I AM NOT A PIG YOU COW!"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't understand you past all the oinking!" I say calmly, almost seriously.

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU FOREHEADED COW!"

"Oh come on! You're just jealous that I actually have curves, little miss stick. LEAVE YOUR MUD AND GO DRINK A MILKSHAKE!"

"YEAH!? WELL AT LEAST I HAVEN'T HAD SO MANY THAT MY BOOBS WON'T STAY IN MY BRAS! YOU COW!"

I freeze. She went there. You're not supposed to go there. Not with me.

"AT LEAST I DON'T TRY TO PUT A-CUP BOOBS INTO C-CUP BRAS AND FILL THE SPACE WITH PADDING!"

Ino is taken back, as though scandalized, her eyes watering slightly in embarrassment at that secret being revealed in front of guys. "I ONLY DID THAT ONCE!" she squeals.

"Whatever, Pig."

"Cow."

"PIG!"

"COW!"

We're both at our limit now; a punch needs to be thrown. Unfortunately, I am unable to free my hands from all the bags, and even if I could there wouldn't be enough time to dodge Ino's punch, though she doesn't seem to be in a better state. She doesn't want to put down her bags, but she doesn't want to risk damaging what's inside either, so we both seem to decided, at the same time, to use the same move.

"SHUT UP!" we scream in unison, slamming our heads against one another in a powerful enough hit to send both of us stumbling backward. It seems to be too much for Ino. After a couple seconds of stumbling, her legs give way and she falls, only to be caught by Kankurou, who shifted his bags time to catch her. I stumble backward just as bad, but somehow I manage to stay on my feet. Both of us are panting now, glaring at each other, our heads extremely read and stinging, the bruises on both our chins still dark.

"I hate you," I say.

"I hate you too," she returns.

And then we smile, completely over our full blown fight.

"I don't get women," Kiba groans.

"Ooh! What's that from?" Ino asks excitedly to Kankurou, now that she's on her feet, after seeing the bag he was holding. She rather liked the design of the melting O, though that was all she could see.

"Screamming O," Shikamaru answers boredly, "It's the politically correct name of the store, because of rules and regulations the mall has about vulgar and offensive names, they found it too troublesome to put the actual name up, but everybody knows that the store's real name is-"

"Screaming Orgasm!" Kankurou finishes with a smirk, "It's a place that sells porn, skin mags, dildos, every kind of condom, edible underwear, lube, and the kinkiest shit created by man."

Ino seems to be interested in this vulgar place. "Oh, really? Sweet. I've been needing a new pair of handcuffs anyway," she casts a seductively suggestive look to Kankurou. "Take me there?"

"To the store, or a screaming orgasm?" he asks perversely.

"Oh. God." I turn beat red in embarrassment that I allowed these two to meet. There's a sort of disgusted snort form next to me. Turning, I see Gaara, looking just as appalled and disgusted as I do. Maybe even more so…

"If you're going back there, so am I!" Kiba calls excitedly, "While we were leaving I saw that sexy porn star from that movie we saw at last summer. She's in a new movie and they have it! Come on, Naruto. It's time to show you the joys of being a man." Kiba grins widely and takes a blushing Naruto by the arm and they all begin to walk away.

"You gonna come with us, little brother?" Kankurou calls toward us.

"Hn," he answers.

I'm not sure if it's a _Yes, I'm coming_ or a _No, I don't want to step foot in such a disgusting_ place kind of Hn, but I take it that it's the latter because he doesn't move or step toward them as they continue to walk away. Soon they are overtaken by the masses of people still roaming the store, leaving me and Gaara all alone together.

An idea strikes me as I realize we're alone, but it is going to be dangerous. Very dangerous.

I turn to Gaara, adjusting the bags on my arms and letting half of them go so that they launch themselves at him. He looks somewhat surprised at my sudden assault, and catches the bags in his shock. His eyes fill with the most sadistic evil glare I have ever seen, but I suppress my shudder, my overwhelming desire not to let this chance go keeping me from dying under the mere gaze of him. He shifts the bags into one hand, about to shove them back at me, but I'm too fast for him. Far too fast…

"Quick, before she comes back!" I hiss.

With that, I grab hold of his hand and drag him toward the other end of the mall.

* * *

**I hope you guys injoyed, and sorry it took so long to update!**

**Oh, and as far as I know, there is no store called Screaming Orgasm, but if there is, I am not claiming to own that store...**


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